No longer bent like weighted
branches or shrivelled like apples
in the bottom of a bushel basket
No longer circling & recircling
in unsolvable mental labyrinths my parents
have left all muddled perceptions behind
Now they shine like towers night-clad in spotlight
like stars visible in the morning sky like uplifted crowns
flashing reflections of the Father
& my grandparents too no longer locked
in history have leapt beyond
the limits of every age
Who sees me stumbling heavenward
laughs gasps at my time-bound ways?
Might faithful souls now glorified
bother more than a glimpse?
Or are they fixed on the source of all that light?

Photo by Joshua Hoehne on Unsplash