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a secret truth

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a secret truth

I've long known a fact that leaves me cold

in just three blinks, I'll have grown old

and these babes we scold and kiss

will perch and fly and forget to miss -

the things we did, the words we said,

gone with prayers whispered at bed.

But me, I know a secret truth

~I keep beside my own lost youth~

of when love's magic works its best

and how to soothe a grieving breast -

twice daily angels ease heartbreak

and let us see far, for pity's sake.

Thus will I search night's last moonbeam

and count nothing seen a witless dream;

will also close watch dusk descend

searching shadows at each day's end -

for in those times of peace and grace

I may see my child's beloved face:

Never old and never gray,

as graceful as she is today -

my Ashlyn, she will walk strange light

glim'ring green in father's sight

Glistening clear through teary eyes

locked on her form as the magic dies -

though it is sure to make me weep

'twill be the dearest treasure that I keep

Every night and every morn

may Ashlyn be again reborn -

if only in fleet, fae faerie glow

and no matter whether others know

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That is a most beautiful, precious thing, TR, capturing the subtle and delicate emotional balance of singular orbit within a vast universe, that is love and sorrow for a child.

I am deeply moved, and delighted; if that is some of what you intended, we both have done our job well.

Many, many thanks for effort well realized. I applaud your courage.


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