Smoke from the Ofrenda

Ancient scrolls in the evening light

A round-out photograph's on the windowsill

Your face in the silver half in night

And every room feels tender and still

I trace the edges with a shaking hand

Like time is a ribbon I can't quite hold

There's a little warmth I don't understand

In the soft, warm corners of the cold

And I am comforted by being remembered

By the names you keep in the quiet air

Like a lantern left in the heart of December

I glow a little when I know you're there

Muted trumpet drifts through the hall

Like a message fading but still alive

Fibrophone stars begin to fall

In the gentle dark where the lost survive

The drums stay distant like a patient shore

Finger-picked constellations under my skin

I don't need forever, I ask for more

Than one small place where I can begin

And I am comforted by being remembered

By the names you keep in the quiet air

Like a lantern left in the heart of December

I glow a little when I know you're there

If I become only dust and rain

Let the memory hold my shape

Let the softest light call me again

Let the loved ones keep

What love can keep

And I am comforted by being remembered

By the names you keep in the quiet air

Like incense rising to the ember

I live a little when I know you're there

Old photographs, worn and slow

Incense fading as the night leans in

If you remember me, I'll know

I was never lost where I begin