Droplets of rain into a puddle
Respite from thoughts all in a muddle.
A splash of color in painting bright
Pulls away that creeping blight
Finding a stay
From sadness for a day.
If there is a shawls colored strand
Pulled through the edge by hand,
The metered beat of the work
Holds back so dark a quirk.
Let me concentrate on child's plea
So I forget all about me.
So it is on the opposite whirl
A kiss from some wisdom's pearl.
For a while the hands from a Spanish dance
Pierces my mood as I watch at a glance.
If I could but give those who grieve
These simple things to achieve,
A break from the heaviness of it,
Monsters from the mind to quit.
Though the years soften the cry,
Never will we ever be able to say, “good-bye.”
Not for a minute, nor for a century,
Even when life brings us to hurry,
In our heart there will be a quiet place of fineness
Where our loved one left their remembered kindness.
