[In the rhythm of Hiawatha]
When the days were dark with Winter
When the trees were bare and barren
In the dying of the sunlight
In the fading of the morning
At the time when hearts were aching
Feeling loss for those not with us
Reaching out for loved-ones missing
Hurting at the empty spaces
Grieving in the happy places
Feeling lost, bereft of comfort
Weeping tears that did not help us………
At this time of our bereavement
Without ending just enduring
There was here no sight of Springtime
No shoot through dark earth breaking
No light in skies of glorious dawning
Only darkness without starlight
Only hopelessness and sorrow.
In the place where faith is hidden
In the sacred and the mystery
There the light that barely flickers,
There the trembling hand stretched outward.
In the soul where all that matters,
Dares a spark of understanding
Lights a fire of hope and meaning
Finds a love that knows no answer
Holds on till the light of Springtime
Waits to know the joy of morning.
Chrystabell ©
December 2014.
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