The Last Season Is Mine

 


By the window’s edge, we sit alone

Raindrops whisper secrets softly blown

Echoes of laughter, shadows gone


The sun’s tender touch warms our hand

Though we are far, still we understand

Our flame once burned bright, fierce and grand


Pine leaves fall gently, cold winds cry

Love’s icy breath drifts a silent sigh

Alone, we breathe, and the quiet lie


Drizzle’s soft kiss reminds us of our heat

Fires long gone still in memory beat

Learning to let go, yet sweet defeat


I wait for night where my soul can rest

Hands reach for the ones I have loved and blessed

At last, I am held, and my heart finds its nest

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Invisible Visitors

The Sovereign Within

Grieving Grief

Stillness

The Mastery of the Reins

Two Yeses

Only One

When the Summer Burns

Will Heaven Shelter Me?

When Small Wings Learn the World