Paint Pink Feathers

Paint pink feathers across the blue sky in October
and soften the blow of all this leaving.

If I go now
it will only reflect my sorrow
at losses of everything I thought was true.

The stars are not here yet to comfort me
and the moon has retreated into her darkness
and is nothing to me now.

Be soft.
Be gentle as the bodies
that fall all around me
like ghosts of my other lives.

Cradle me like a mother
holding her son
soothing his cries
for something more.

This light is beyond my understanding
like a dream and I must find an escape--
the rejection of the body of evidence
has left me alone in the friendship
of so much silence.

These feathers of the night fade.
Black and white replace the delicate shades
of compassion and I have no choice but to breathe
my last breaths like I am begging for a forgiveness
I never knew I needed to find.

If I can only wake up and welcome the mother
who is following me too closely
asking me to pray for you over my left shoulder,
I may find the way
to redemption.