Garden Verdant Green
A pall draped the house in the silence of
sunlit hours, as a woman lay in her sick-bed
drifting, in and out of restless, fitful sleep.
Dreams omnipresent dark and ominous
in black and white without promise, and yet
archangels hovered closely, above her pallid skin.
The woman cried out why such pain and sorrow
in this life, but one day mercy gave reprieve — her
body no longer leaden, tortuous, blessed be.
Not truly well, but better, this life of endless
sorrow turned into new-born days, and so
she rose from her sick-bed, after ten-long-years.
And went down into the garden verdant green, and
smelled the fragrant hyacinth, and touched the old oak
tree, as the sun shined incandescent upon her being.
She was filled with joy as scintillating sunlit rays
permeated her soul — to breath in new life, and as a
songbird sings, unshackled free, blessed once more.