A Lantern

when the moon rises
and the wheat praises
in holy alleluia.
when it clears the chimney,
passes through the warm smoke
and sails the winter pine,
i'll hang a lantern in my heart;
a beacon of remembrance
of the moment you were,
when yet, you still believed

then as it hangs, just there, on nothing,
i'll walk that wheat and feel the chaff,
climb that roof and twirl the smoke
in warm silken magic

and then limb after limb
i'll climb that pine
to let needles remind me
we were real once,
when nothing else was
when yet you still believed