Ashes to Joy

Every day when I wake I feel sorrow and pain.

With my feet on the floor I struggle to gain

Enough strength to force this body upright.

Going through the motions, first steps are taken

Slowly, so slowly, the cobwebs are shaken,

Darkness recedes from strengthening light.

Things of yesterday have not all been burned

In the fire, nor have they all been turned

To ashes. Some now glow as the refiner’s gold.

Joy’s hands reach in with warmth and start

To touch and heal this tired heart

With songs of praise both new and old.

God is Love.

I Know This Place

I know this place. I’ve been here before,

Though I can’t remember when, or who

Was my companion and what

We did or didn’t do.

I know that big old apple tree

Growing by that old stone wall

With apples gone and dropping leaves

With upraised arms it greets the fall.

I’ve seen this field in winter’s rest

And in rebirth in spring.

I’ve seen the blossoms turn to fruit

While birds return to sing.

I’ve seen this place before,

And I hope I will again.

I yearn both day and night

For a place I’ve never been.

Quiet

A holiday like this should be
Boisterous and full of a melody
Of laughter and love and living sound,
And the sight of the youngest running around.

A barbecue to signal the retreat
Of the season on scurrying feet,
And the coloring leaves
Of the backyard trees.

Endings are just beginnings
But we’re hoping for extra innings
If only I’d money to buy it
I’d want just a little less
Quiet.