Belief

I didn’t believe them when they first told me,
But then I saw them, laying as they said they would,
Like a leather canvas covering the soils, in layers.

I cried that night, not for the death of beauty,
Because I saw beauty in their undoing,
But for the way the wind couldn’t catch as well.

They still swayed at the touch, but the grace that had left,
Reminded me of days where tomorrow would be better,
Where I waited for the springing of a ground new with life.

They gradually left, though I couldn’t see where they had gone,
To some place, some better place, where they would be
Rewarded for those days swaying so calmly in the breeze.

How could I believe them when they first told me,
That they hadn’t gone at all, and that their melody
Would be sung again, in the not too distant spring.


PrioriThought 2009