Above The Sunset Sky

Above the sunset sky
she spreads her wings to fly,
borne on the winds of wishes
that would not be denied.
And then I see below,
the burning bitter glow,
of scenes she did not paint,
pain only she could know.
An ancient book of prayer,
a candle burning where
she took her last lone breath,
with no one left to care.
Her life seemed much too long,
none left to sing her song,
at last her book is closed,
she's home, her journey's done.
David Chiasson