by James Cecil
In solitude, I search for will
To mend my soul, and shed the chill
Of broken love, the loss, and fears
I taste this day - with salty tears.
Memories - are but a foe
That drags my fractured spirit slow
My children’s voices cast no balm
I search for hope, through prayer or psalm.
For only light of each day new
With all its promise, fresh and true
Can lead me to that precious spark
That draws in hope, and lights the dark.
My friend is time; its patient will
Each passing day make dull the nil
That left me empty - duped of trust
A sunlit day precedes the dusk.
The dusk is tired; a weary yawn.
My slumber calms until the dawn
I wake enslaved in pain’s full scope
This new day born- I ache for hope.