For R

Votive

The Viking way sent them sailing on a burning bier
Towards the west, chasing the sun forever.
Fireworks to celebrate what’s past and gone.
Carbon, oxygen, gases. Not him,
But what’s left over after the flame goes out.

But you’ll see him, I promise,
And his holy ghost, with you and in you.
Maybe at odd times, from the corner of your eye,
While tending his garden or the lilies he planted,
Their soil fertilised by the dead pets he loved too.
Fire and earth always with us,
And a candle’s light, a tiny sun, to remember.