The Sound of Sunlight

A shoal of copper sunlight quivers through my bedroom window onto Papas picture.

It trickles down and slowly up his glass rosary beads – as if reflecting his fingers passing in prayer.

A meadow lark wakes. Tall conifers sway dreamlike. Forgiveness in the branches.

Kindness reaches its hand across time and through the sound of Papas mandolin – like Gods voice, always with me.

Shoreditchpoet