The lines of her face, delicate prints of labor
Once soft features, long past their prime
From her smile spring forth stirrings of felicity
Radiance pouring from the minutest glance
Far too long had I waded in dead seas
Rummaging cesspools expecting gems
Drowning in hypocrisy, smothered by vanity
Debunking forever the bliss of ignorance
Three brief dawns unclogged the drain
Serendipitous and abrupt in every respect
Washed and renewed in a shower of sanity
And by salts revived from an invisible trance
Perhaps our threads will never cross again
Night’s cloak obscures the morn of the morrow
Come what may, with peace or calamity
Patiently awaiting the light of Providence
MYHL
3/23/05
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y. H. Landeweer
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