by the green hills,
grass whistles,
willow huts
and pillow forts
of our childhood:
our spirits transparent,
flaring out of our skin
like beams from dawn.
Let the heart be moved again:
that first kiss under starlight,
this shaft of mote-filled light
bursting through a crack in the tool shed,
these songs of white-throated sparrows,
black-capped chickadees
and that symphony of lazy river,
this warm rain, these diaphanous faces
of people in coats on cobble streets
leaning in under lane lamps,
arm in arm.
Let the heart be moved again
at such a time as this:
these evening years,
this darkening road,
these unstinting losses,
this search for home, that far glory,
this short steep flight,
and everlasting fall
toward the gracing,
the forgiving,
Reunion.
I noticed today that I audibly sigh when I see you have a new post. Balm for my soul. A million thanks today.
on the feelings, memories, hopes of being old and young, being, discoveries new and hope. captures my heart there and takes me for a ride, long walk. balm it is and so to share
Thank you so much Wenda. (Very happy you read them.)
Thank you for that Gordon. Truly appreciated.
I love this Stephen! Thank you.
Thank you Ann!
I so look forward to your posts, and this one really touched my soul. Thank you. I hope you don’t mind but this needs to be shared on Facebook.
Thank you so much Corrine. Very kind words.
I used this poem in a funeral service that I conducted last weekend. The last stanza is particularly appropriate. Several people asked me for the source later. Thanks, Steve!
Thank you Sam.