“Respite is a come good- or the memory of a wish that did – after the dark”
In Springtime’s Fields of Glory
And let me lie in springtime’s fields of glory,
In meadows at bloom, a counterpointed flower,
Where clouds, effacing, having lost their daunted presence,
And I to peace of these, and thought,
Know healing silence in feeling,
Touch, and understanding.
Beauty, my long companion, will drape a pall
Of lovely, silken gray, of sunbeams
Turned briefly, in kindness, aside,
To sprinkle crystal raindrops over petaled
Roses, dried of time and feeling, and lightly rosined,
Close to twilight.
The time will be of rest from struggle,
The absolute devouring of doubt and fear, and,
Most, the loneliness of a heart apart,
That could see and could not catch, left,
A heart, alone.