The mindful night air, was zesty and crisp
Streetlamp orange, and wet from the mist
Silhouetted a figure, all blankets and damp
It staggered uphill, a beautiful tramp
The desolate lane, held still and surreal
And as he drew close, I pulled hard on my gloves
‘Good evening’ I said, and watched for appeal
He smiled a rainbow, and his eyes released doves
He bathed in my words, and told me that Love
Is all that exists, below and above
He said it again, and again and again
And as he walked off, he felt like my friend
I continued downhill, where my father had died
And sat by his spot, feeling peacefully odd
A star fell down, through a hole in the sky
And lit up my angels, my spirit, and God
