Grief

A Shadow falls upon the brightest Day,

And dims the Sun that once did shine so clear.

The World becomes a Stage of dull Decay,

Where all that lives will speak of thy Fear.

*

The Heart, once full of Mirth and gentle Song,

Now beats a hollow Rhythm in the Chest.

Each breath becomes a Labor.

As if the Soul refuses its own Rest.

*

Time moves as Honey pours from out of the Comb,

Each Moment stretches endless.

The Mind will seek, yet finds no Path toward Home,

And Memory becomes a mournful Tale.

*

The absent Presence haunts each waking Hour,

More real than all the Living who remain.

Love shows itself a strange and bitter Power,

That binds us to our most exquisite Pain.

*

Yet Nature teaches all must pass away,

That Seasons turn and Leaves must fall to Earth;

What dies in Winter shall return in May,

And Death itself gives rise to newer Birth.

*

So grief becomes the Price we pay for Love,

The scale that measures what we held most dear.

To feel such Sorrow proves what we dream of,

That Souls can touch, though Flesh may disappear.