Begging for the Sun

The claret wine is now balsamic

Aged but sweetened by the life course of time

A bottled up bud slowly dying

Like sentiments of residue to be exposed and judged

What a bountiful memory we hold onto its last drop

The tongue of many youthful kisses captured and lost

As inviting as a warm bath chasing the chill

Only to wake to forced childlessness like the bitter winter begging for the sun.

Spring seeds in the frost grasping to the soil for comfort

Honey mead wine dreams of motherhood lost

That harvest once hopeful now evaporated into air unexpected

Thoughts and insight from the Author:

"The sun rises"

"Although we fear without a child we would be unimportant or bare but strength and wisdom are conceived from such despair".

"The compass within becomes agile and less fragile. For we can now see more clear that  our soul purpose was not physically shared with the unborn but in the most profound way with the living."


©June 2013