Mortality’s grace

‘mortality’s grace’ trgates,10/2/2018 
six months,
first time mortality knocked -
Dad and Mother made deals with God, 
years later they told me. 
funny, I believed,
even when hating it. 
a half dozen funeral roses, 
times a half dozen shadow angels, 
yet each night they refused to close their wooden boxes. 
irony, praying for closure,
you arise, again, 
glad that mortality knocked one time too few. 
people ask, “why do you believe?”
no tautology here, teleology, ontology, or even a slight eschatology of fear —
philanthropy found in hugs, 
wee ones asking for nothing, 
in their browns, blues, hazels, 
here we stroll in the Garden,
cool breeze caressing our cheeks,
dew baptizing our toes, 
each grass blade poking up through. 
questions, or answers,
superfluous,
every awakening to a sunrise alarm,
here a desire for faith 
takes a backseat to Aretha’s Amazing Grace.