Love and loss


Laugh lightly at the end of days,
weep deeply in its warmth,
spice of wit dilutes the shock;
the bird of love released.

Memories hold fast, in place,
sure twinkle in our dreams,
to  grow a quilt of hope;
and soothe the hours of grief.

Let love lift up its voice in song,
to smooth life’s coverlet,
so time can bring its healing;
acceptance takes small steps.

The wren of hope sings quietly,
in words we may not hear,
but sing it does, eternally;
reminds us not to fear.


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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