Waiting for you to rise again

Your favorite song
Doesn't hit the right tunes
When you are not here.

Your favorite foods
Don't taste the same
When they are made
By different hands.

The prayers that
you prayed for me,
Don't hold the same weight,
As you are now up in
Whatever celestial sky
You are in.

I stand here below your coffin,
Still awestruck at the fact
That it has been three years.

Three long,
Brutal,
Bitter years without you.

But I hope that
This night you can
Come back with all of the dead
Back to this world,
So that I can dance and sing
With you again.

So that we can eat your favorite foods,
And travel to your favorite places.

So that my mother,
Who weeped for you more
Than I have ever seen
Anyone ever weep,
Can have some sense of tranquility,
As she sees you among the living again.

Feliz Dia de Los Muertos Abuelita.
Te quiero mucho.