Monday, January 14, 2013

Refurbished Hope

 (some photos of 'her face' in the past week)

I never tire of your face
From dark folds you emerge
A newborn gathering of grace
Pure, virgin moment-surge

Somehow twixt farewell and hello
You shed your haggard stance
Where steps disheartened, weary, slow
Yearn now to leap and dance

Your form, refreshed and darkness-bathed
Exhales replenished mirth
Your labyrinth of yesterdays
Cannot return to earth

From charcoal cocoon your emerge
Draping the sunless slope
With tender mercy’s rampant splurge
And dawn’s refurbished hope

© Janet Martin

So often it amazes me, how the old becomes new in the morning.
What our mothers said is true, 'it always looks better in the morning'.

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