The Keeper of our groans and moans and tears we never share
Softly and patiently intones its sorrow to the air
Then, in kind, wordless empathy He places on our tongue
A sweet and tender melody of hope and morning-song
The dew evaporates at noon; the sun rises to set
And summer slips away too soon; this is life’s minuet
We dance within its moody arms; there is no other choice
Bearing the climax of lost charms in tears that have no
voice
The law of longing
rends and ravages the mortal soul
We weep our secret tears, though friends and fellowships console
They cannot place within our clasp those things that cannot
be
And only grace succors this gasp of thought’s futility
Life’s moment’s waft; sweet bubble-bliss of half-breath innocence
Before love’s sleek, soft parting kiss bestows deliverance
The revelation spun in youth unveils with bleeding awe
Its increment of stunning truth; the voice of longing’s law
For Love will ever be both longing and contentment met
It spills in silent symmetry of triumph and regret
Yet, we are not victims of hurt; Love bids us to be strong
The realm of heaven tunes this dirt with hope and
morning-song
© Janet Martin
I like that imagine of dancing within life's moody arms.
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:) thank-you.
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