Garden of Poetry by Daniel F Mitchell


Back into the Black Hole

Cosmic dust is what we are,
Remnants of an ancient star,
Drifted to a distant shore,
To dance a while in sunlight,
Then slip away into the night,
Back into the black hole once more.


Sonnet for a Distant Neighbor

Oft have I gazed across the sea at you,
The lonely void that limits our discourse,
Space gone unmarked by no lack of remorse,
Too far for all but starlight to get through.
If it were within my power to do,
I would take hope’s reins like a mighty steed,
And stride to your pasture in my due need,
That I should make my inquiry anew.

Has your kind arisen from swamp and sea,
To gaze in wonder at the vast expanse,
And consider how it all came to be?
Weighing the infinite odds of pure chance,
  Does your regard ever wander to me,
  As you watch the beacon of my sun dance?


Island in the Sea

On an ocean of cosmic fury lost,
In vast waters never charted before,
Floundering in waves of fear, tempest tossed,
The sailor searched in earnest for a shore,
For sustenance in endless evermore,
Ever looking to the horizon’s lee
For space kinder than that already crossed,
Praying to find rest in eternity –
Somewhere in the distance, an island in the sea.

A splendid woman in a dream appeared,
In flowing robes of alabaster dressed,
Trembling, as nigh unto a swoon, she neared,
Her hands in prayerful supplication pressed.
With a voice of clear resonance, she blessed,
With one love, on her lustrous lips, all things.
Pressing onward, by darkness not oppressed,
She praised the light that hope to despair brings,
Floating gracefully as a wish on angel wings.

Radiant was her face at breaking dawn,
As the glittering of a thousand jewels!
And eyes of turquoise and emerald pools,
That changed hue with the sky they gazed upon!
And black velvet hair lush around her wreathed!
Her brow was crowned with a halo of gold!
Her shapely waist in jasper and jade sheathed!
Her fair countenance by mere words untold!
She was goddess to a paradisiacal fold!

Full on her cheeks shone the adoring sun,
Who bowed low, though a proud and pompous king,
As full she curtsied in her subtle pun –
Free from all the darts a fire god could fling.
She pursed her sweet jasmine-scented lips,
Soft-set beneath a lavender-lace veil,
Whispering well to newly-arrived ships,
Raising with her breath a gossamer sail,
To receive all wayward wanderers without fail.

She spread forth a table of spearmint leaves,
Covered with a cloth of rosemary sprigs,
And set out pillows of barley straw sheaves,
And brought platters of honey-centered figs,
And clusters of grapes glistening with dew,
And tangerines with aromatic rinds,
And myriad dishes aligned in queue.
How with a language germane to all minds,
She opened her door to refreshment of all kinds!

Then she danced, O how with exceeding feat!
She danced to the tune of the sailor’s lute,
To the twinkling stars’ illustrious beat,
To the meteor’s irascible flute!
And heaven about her, though deaf and mute,
Changed colors to the blend of her heart’s choice!
And the sun felt his jealous love complete!
And the sea and the sky sang with one voice,
Until all lonely hearts were lifted to rejoice.

Once a fearful-eyed child sat on her knee,
Concerned with heavy thoughts of coming night,
But was soon comforted to some degree,
By her full intervention in his plight.
She spoke of concepts throughout history,
On which a lost soul could somewhat depend.
She said she was not sure of wrong or right.
But she vowed to remain a faithful friend,
And hold him against her bosom until the end

The traveler knelt before her gentle feet,
And rested his sleepy head in her lap.
Confident that his journey was complete,
He prepared his soul for a restful nap,
While she hummed a comforting lullaby,
Of tides and undercurrents and destiny.
And the sad soul accepted with a sigh,
How a sailor is truly blessed to be
Safe at home, on an Island in the sea.



These city walls suppress my breath!
Within a world shaded with doom,
The living live a waking death,
Trapped within an airless tomb.

But my wild eyes refuse to see.
My mind resides on passing clouds.
I long to run from misery,
Far from the maddening crowds!

With the horizon I shall be,
On the trail of the fleeting day,
For the wanderlust is in me,
And nothing can make me stay!


Fading Alone

Darkness traces the lines of my forehead,
With shadows draped before these fading eyes
As sins that no absolution might shed,
Nor penance while in this mortal disguise.
I plead guilty to the crime of being,
To the city beyond my windowpane,
With a blank gaze silently decreeing
The candlelight of all souls lit in vain,
Seeking resolution through amity
Beyond the glass reflection of my face,
(If only my loneliness to postpone)
Watching the beacons of humanity –
Like dying embers in a common space,
Burning together, yet fading alone.


Poets Who Walk Thy Shore

Thou, forest dark with spruce and larch, high walled,
With weave of needled branches formed to bar
All intrusion, by inquiry appalled,
Bent on wearying eyes that gaze afar
To secrets that lie old on speechless tongues,
Are thy cold altars empty but for night air
Through which thrust purposeless ascending rungs
To the sky, to heaven, or to nowhere!

In thy columned cathedral does there dwell
Some pious priest of yore or mystic lore
Who might with merciful design impart
Life’s meaning or of eternity tell?
Ignore no more poets who walk thy shore,
Whose lips sing mention of thy empty heart,
And breathe human passion through thy silent hall –
Should no soul remain to hear thy trees fall.


Someone Painted Stars

Someone painted stars on the ceiling.
Someone put lights into the sky.
Someone made little points of healing,
And hung them for a poet’s eye.
Inside, I have a warm feeling
That someone with incredible might
Painted all those stars on the ceiling,
So that we would not fear the night.


A Wish

Were I to make a wish,
Were I to wish upon a star,
It would be upon a shooting star,
Though such a wish is fleeting,
Burning brilliantly, and fading instantaneously,
Not enduring as a common star
Or a common wish –
Lingering only for a moment of illumination,
But surpassing all stars for a moment.

This is the wish I would wish:
To shine brightly,
If only for a moment.

Were I to wish on a star,
I would wish for a shooting star –
The moment of its glorious passing
To share as my own.


Shine On, Yellow Flower

Shine on, yellow flower!
Upon another day!
Blossom another hour!
Upon your azure garden stay.
Sing your warm and golden verse.
Mingle with the universe.
Cold eternity disperse!
Shine away the blackest curse.
I appeal to your bloom.
Shine away my pining gloom.
Take my soul upon your rays.
Abide with me beyond my days.


Swiftly Flowing

My life is just a dream
In universal flow,
And matter but a stream
That only time can slow.
The hours are swiftly flowing.
The time of youth has passed.
I don’t know where I am going,
But I’m going there fast.


I Am Wont

Bodies which through eternal midnight glide,
Riding the tide to alien abodes,
Upon these cobblestones of foreign roads,
In jaunting flights of fancy, I abide.
I am wont to think my beginning has an end.

Swallow swooping through the evening eaves,
Oblivion ash upon the damp air,
It grieves me to know the how and the where –
The why and the will that your course so weaves.
I am wont to think that ignorance is my friend.

Leaves clinging feebly to the bosom prong,
Rattling fingers of February’s clutch,
Rabbit terror huddling in my hutch,
I heed wide-eyed the lack of right and wrong.
I am wont to fear the opening of the door.

Omniscient of all matter near and far,
But for the clouds obscuring my mind’s eye,
Supplicating the indifferent sky,
I whisper unto a twinkling star.
I am wont to pray for pith at my atoms’ core.


How Drear!

Brothers and sisters of yesteryear,
Asleep beneath the wistful trees,
Can you feel my mortal fear,
Born upon the timeless breeze?

To you beneath those mounds so bleak,
Reposed at your eternal ease,
Sacrosanct in thought I speak,
With heartfelt but unspoken pleas.

How drear to think the worth of breath,
Is measured by the girth of death!


Riding Fire

Come with me to deepest space.
Hand in hand we’ll roam.
If our love burns anyplace,
We’ll always be at home.

In a fit of delight,
Through clover black as sable,
Silver horses race down moonbeams,
Roaming endless fields afar.

Satin rabbits prance like fireflies.
Ashen ladies dressed in silk,
Strew bright flowers at our table,
As we dance across the night.

We will lie on a star.
We will drink cosmic milk.
We will fly on our dreams,
Riding fire across the skies.


The Way She Smiled up at Me

A lion has no hesitation
When it decides to eat.
The timid deer in its habitation
Relies on the agility of its feet.

Foxes must be clever
Because they are not strong.
A canary must ever endeavor
To sing love’s sweetest song.

The flower pays a nectarous fee
For the mercenary sting of bees.
The way she smiled up at me
Made me feel weak in the knees.


Of Ghost Ships

  A picture unfolds before my mind’s eye,
Where entwines the courses of Main and Rhine,
Beneath a sun setting low in the sky,
When you and I witnessed the flow and shine
Of moments that in innocence confide.

  Now I see the radiant face of joy!
I hear the current lapping at our feet;
As the voice of some ancient siren’s ploy,
Whose echoes to restless spirits entreat,
Beseeching love beneath her skirts safe hide.

  Now glide the alabaster swans on glass,
On the face of a golden mirror cast,
Like concentric ripples that subtly pass
Into deepening eve – not meant to last,
As lost memories that in dreams abide.

  Now we stand on the hazy banks of time,
Embarking from our port of flesh and bone,
As the elements of some divine rhyme,
Rigged to sail on fleeting visions alone,
Across endless stretches of cosmic tide.

  Ah, but where is the book wherein to write
Words formed from the shards of fast-fading light!
Where is the meaning of bygone delight,
Lost on lips that sing between day and night
Of ghost ships that never again may ride.



Pattaya, I am breathless for your beat,
Sawasdee bleat to my eager ears,
The buzz and drone my spirit hears!
Succor of sweet voice from alley and door,
Warm wave of arms, and tapping feet,
And the measured tread of yearning as she nears!
Passion, my ship has come to shore!
Within my keel I feel a great lurch,
Straight turned to teak, from spine to head,
To the chambers of ardency I am led,
Among doves cooing from their perch
One on each arm round me bade,
Rumors of dancing shadows in the shade,
By the stairway to heaven, steep and tall,
To the rainbow at the end of the hall,
A heartbeat’s pause to look down,
A moment, peering beneath the gown
In angelic liberation of mortal gall.

Beneath a neon moon, I will make my bed,
In a night escarpment of valley and hill,
I’ll unwrap my want in silence deep and still
That one might not hear, like a butterfly’s tread,
The slippery tongue of lust, as it went
Creeping along from belly button to satin tent,
And seeming to whisper, “All is well!”
For lifetimes it seems I will feel the spell
Of the place and the hour, passion secretly fed,
Till mouth and breast and heart is red,
My stalwart resolve never bent.
In sweltering vales far away,
Where the glistening moon widens for the bay,
Where a sea of pink tempests whirl and float
On the rising tide in a velvet boat.
Yet soon again, keen to cast off and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride,
Carnal pirate, I draw the glitter near.
Rowing hard at the scull side,
Coxswain at the seascape crisp and clear,
Then, impetuous, stamp the earth,
And turn and test the tightening girth,
Worth of my salt, tasting the fruit of my search,
Ringing the bell on the tower of my church!

I raise my mead, and drink my fill.
With pussy cats purring lovingly still,
I pet, I pamper, I yearn!
And lo! as I look, on allurement’s height,
Glimmering, shimmering, gleaming of light,
I kindle my flame again – with joy I burn!
Lingering, I gaze, ‘til full of her sight,
Into a harbor of paradise I turn.
On Walking Street, I walk and walk.
Pattaya, I love you long time, mak mak!


The Subtle Song of Rain

On one cold and bleak November,
Clear as my mind may remember,
Stirred the ember of my love of life to life again.
Long before the sun ceased shining,
Eclipsed by my soul’s deep pining,
Blackened by the stark divining
That my heart beat on in vain.
From a dark cloud’s silver lining,
Gentle on my windowpane,
Came the subtle song of rain.

Came a song so sweetly singing,
To my very marrow ringing,
As celestial angels earthward arrive to rein
In wayward spirits to repent,
By way of divine chorus lent
To liberate kindred bent
On clinging to damning bane.
I heard voices, heaven-sent,
Joined in eloquent refrain
With the subtle song of rain.

In a rain so softly falling,
I fancied nature’s mother calling,
Until my fleeting streak of sorrow waxed wane,
Entreating me with blissful weeping,
Love of life upon me heaping;
Blessings of eternal reaping –
Power to cleanse the darkest stain –
To my soul, sublimely seeping,
Notes to soothe the deepest pain,
In the subtle song of rain.


Masters of Space

I have stood on the bloodied fields of war,
And gazed upon the legions of peace,
Whose tongues shall cry for liberty no more,
Whose souls no longer seek for death’s release.
I have seen the fallen champions of truth,
Their hearts and minds stripped naked to the pith,
Martyred for the cause of innocent youth,
Freed from ghosts and gods and monsters of myth.
I have heard echoes of revolution,
Complete freedom from punishment or grace,
When high on the peak of evolution,
We proclaim ourselves the masters of space.


When Someday Through Elysium I Ride

Standing here dazed upon this lonely shore,
I gaze at the face of the vast unknown,
My thoughts naught in the universal roar,
My thoughts no more than a meaningless drone
In this ocean of nothing around me.
Fade away, far away, sense of self-worth!
Float upon forever and never cease.
Would that I were free
To rend the boundaries of this finite Earth,
And in eternity find lasting peace!

Were I to meditate a thousand years,
Searching for answers and questions in vain,
Would truth mitigate all my mortal fears,
And my tired mind find some lasting gain –
Knowing the purpose of life and demise?
And comprehending all of why and how,
Sure, with my cup of wisdom brimming full,
Nothing to surmise,
Would I understand much better than now
The potential of an undying soul?

Wink, all-knowing stars, from your high places.
Sing the sweet melodies of paradise.
Unveil the mysteries in your faces.
Sprinkle a twinkling glimmer of advice.
Fervently I would lean my yearning ear
To know what guarded secrets lie in store.
For a glimmer of celestial insight
I await to hear.
With uplifted gaze, I humbly implore!
Enlighten me, O omniscient night!

When someday through Elysium I ride,
High upon a steed ethereal bred,
Shall I sheathe the very world at my side,
And wear a crown of sun upon my head?
Shall I bask in honor, glory, and grace,
Finding reality more than I dream,
Finding at last that for which all souls yearn?
To my proper place!
Lead on, usher of the eternal plan!
I am obliged to follow in my turn.



Anubis, are you waiting in the shade,
Watchful until the four quarters align,
Impartial until my heart has been weighed?
You, who mortals and gods dare not malign!
I think I see you where the roads divide,
Waiting to part the light and open night
And lead me to where tranquil waters flow!
Guide me onward then, to the other side!
To Osiris with your terrible might!
Then at your direction, westward we go!


Sweet Harlot of Mine

Who would come to you if I were not here
To embrace your beauty in my frail arms,
And lift your black velvet veil’s lace to peer
Passionately at your endearing charms?

Who would feast beneath your bedside table,
As I, in awe of fairness so replete?
Who savor your taste, were I not able –
Ambrosia spread, but no one to eat!

Who would sing to you of your twinkling eyes?
Without me, where would you be, whore divine?
Were it not for me believing your lies,
No one would love you, sweet harlot of mine!


When I Close My Eyes Forever

When I close my eyes forever
To awareness of all I deem real,
All my ties with sensation sever,
And in blackness the pact with fate seal,
When I take as my mate, for better or worse,
Oblivion, whore of being,
Bind my soul to her with a tight tether,
Shall I see our matrimony as a curse,
Or find some consolation seeing
She and I are in that instant together?


We Die Alone

We die alone,
But not lonely.
We shed flesh and bone,
But flesh and bone only.
In your soul, you know
That I go where you go,
Where myriads have trod before,
Shod in wonder for evermore,
Clad in the armor of existence,
Basking in eternal persistence,
In a realm of endless deep.
Together we shall sleep
And dream of all we have seen,
Adrift in a stream of silver starlight,
With the fire of all that has ever been
To keep us warm through the long night.


To Bathe in Eternal Rain

Do you fear to be free?
Are you afraid to fly,
To be, but not to be,
To be born as you die,
To bathe in eternal rain,
To wash off this mud,
You, clad in pain,
Imprisoned in flesh and blood!


Heartbeat in Darkness

In the still of night I lie,
Pondering absence of light,
Wondering if when I die,
This shall be my eternal plight.

My heartbeat in darkness beats,
Divulging life in me still.
A metronome of hope entreats
My prayer for a higher will.


On the Highest Plain

That all my mortal strivings are in vain,
Is the aspect of a most bitter bane,
Whose poison all aspirations detain
In a prison of ignorance and pain.

I long to be as my spirit esteems;
Abiding in the concepts of my dreams.

Let tranquility be my sole refrain –
An eternal sigh that may never wane!
Only joy in existence would remain,
Were I an angel on the highest plain.


To You, When You Are Old

To you, when you are old: remember
Childhood wonder, the morrow’s surprise,
All the seasons before December,
The youthful amazement in your eyes.

When your kind gaze has glassed in despair,
When the green has gone from the clover,
When your lips find a shortness of air,
When you find the joy is all over,

Oh, when you are old, then remember
The days gone by, the lighthearted breath,
The hope of love’s undying ember
To brighten darkness, and defy death.


Tonight, is the Night for Waking

Tonight, is the night for waking,
When yesteryear and forever align.
Tonight, the seal of sleep is breaking,
And restless souls from darkness shine.

Do you hear the gravestones quaking?
Do you see the glowing light?
Do you feel the ground beneath you shaking?
Behold the glorious sight!

A moment grows nearer,
That no mortal may surmise!
What concept could be dearer
Than the end of all demise?

Tonight, is the night for waking,
When existence lies in a trance,
When the dead of life are partaking,
And ghosts come out to dance.


In the Day of No More Days

In the day of no more days,
When flames of thought, high and hot,
Burn the vessel of clay to naught,
And forever in my mind arrays,

In the culminating hour,
When darkness and light share an opinion,
When time loses all dominion,
And death is stripped of power,

When I see beyond eternity,
With eyes of immortal fire,
With the voice of a celestial choir
I shall sing across infinity.

I shall sprout untethered pinions,
Wings of endless space.
With perpetuation as my face,
And seasons as my minions,

Across the sea in countless ships,
I shall sail away from sorrow and pain.
I shall count an immeasurable gain,
With timeless tomorrow at my fingertips,

Embracing fate as my sister,
When love and lovers have become one.
And though I kiss the eclipse of the sun,
My lips shall not blister.


In the Dreams of Many Separate Minds

In a shade of ages, long-ago lost,
We kissed farewell the dust of the first hand.
Upon a chariot of fire, we crossed
Into the garden of a newborn land.

In the mud of a primordial field,
Within a shielding fog of ignorance,
We cultivated a marvelous yield,
There, formed more faces of our countenance,

To gaze with a myriad host of eyes
Upon our conquest of the endless sea,
Beneath an ether of numberless skies –
To be as one, yet as many things be.

This is the wisest life we’ve ever known!
What reason misses, omnipresence finds.
Omniscience with spreading roots is grown
In the dreams of many separate minds.


Upon the Buxom Wings of Night,

Upon the buxom wings of night,
Cupid flew as the moon might ride.
Arrived a dim nocturnal tide
Of undulating, cloud-swept light,

Upon her skin of pearl white,
Upon her countenance of sheer delight,
Upon her serene station,
In a transcendental revelation.

I found sublime enlightenment
In the cool embrace of the moon.
I partook of her sacrament
In the steam of a torrid swoon.

In a beam of silver elegance,
The worldly mask lifted from my eyes,
And in the spell of a moonlit trance,
I beheld soul beneath her disguise.


Melodious Notes by Moonlight

I knew not thy name, nor for what fair cause
Thou, dryad feathered in thy shadowed lair,
Bid me from my dark meditations pause,
To witness hope throated on the night air.
Soul, who spoke only contentment and peace
Though wind through the cedars whispered of doom,
Blessed be, eternally in thy height!
I praise as my savior, and never cease,
Thee, who cheered so fearlessly from the gloom,
Making melodious notes by moonlight!


For Creation’s Sake

Creation for creation’s sake!
Those mortal pains the most divine souls take
Inspire an inner fire to wake,
And in the end a richer spirit make!


Witch Spell

The house is so silent now,
I cannot bear to sit any longer.
Alone on this stump, I am cold,
Colder still to feel the sun
Of that morning
When these roots had life.

I hear a gust of wind picking up,
No branches for it to sway,
Just the gate hinges recalling the days
Of shade and laughter on the grass.
I think I should rise, meet it, him
The old man gone from his arm chair.

Were his knees newer, maybe he too
Would rise to see it.
He saw the colors it had before.
He rose on other days,
And walked the garden path
To the field beyond the shed.

The plots are fallow now,
Unplowed for some time,
Rows of posts still tied by rusted wire,
But not so tight as in times past
A few winters away from complete emancipation,
Though they must be too warped and weathered to care.

I fear the hedge is grown beyond hope.
No shears will bend its ways now.
The dead spot where the old tabby used
To bear her kittens has widened some,
Not so much that it wouldn’t still do
For cat shelter, or even a mouse.

The ghost should be gone since
He dragged the skeleton out with his hoe,
And buried the soul beneath the walnut tree.
He’ll not need the space any longer.
He’s hoed no more than tabby’s bones
For many summers.

A fine patch of fuzzy weeds grow
Where the strawberries did.
Memories of pumpkins, and grape vines,
And frosted plums come to mind.
A few rattling corn stalks are still standing
Like some deserted, Navaho graveyard.

A wind blows long and low, across the open rows –
A conscience burdened with past vice,
Or mirth simply expired,
As the whispering of witches,
Not in spell and conjuring,
But in repentance and remorse,
Or maybe just the cat.
I think I’ll rise and find it.


I Believe in Christmas Eve

The spirit here I think I see,
Reflected from the Christmas tree,
Across the crisp December snow –
A beacon of security.

Watching from my frosted window,
I think that, finally, I know
Why I believe in Christmas Eve –
That light that makes a pine tree glow.

Safe in this silent-night reprieve
From a troubled world, I believe
In peace on earth, good will to all.
Here, it is easy to achieve.

Watching herald angels fall,
As snow beyond my glistening wall,
I wait for Santa Claus to call.
And like a child, I feel so small.


I Am Content with Silence

Observe the vastness of the universe,
The profound idiom of its order.
See the stars shine through inviolate calm,
The wordless drama they nightly rehearse.
Note the sun tracing out heaven’s border,
Daily playing its magnificent psalm.
What measure of sound have I to presume,
These celestial melodies to impeach?
Why break the peace with verbal violence!
For the time, I am content with silence,
Until I find a thought worthy of speech.


The Spring of Our Origin

In the gurgling stream of our youth,
How simple our course,
Meandering with the flow!
The rocks were clear to see,
The falls certain
Our mutual assurances of truth,
Though ignorant all,
Sublimely taken by the current,
The discourse deepening,
The channel widening and digressing,
Opposing tangents to choose,
Low here, and low there,
And whether to turbulence or stagnation
We went, there was no way of knowing,
Only faith that some fate controlled our destiny.

At the delta of our arrival,
We stared into a vast sea of eternity,
And longed to return to the spring of our origin.


I Long to Abide Forever There

I have loved a measure far and above
Any measure a mortal should be part of.
I have roamed a world so vast,
And seen such scenes go past
As to make me believe I am free
To conceive thoughts beyond mortality.

There is a spring flowing in the dale,
Filling a pond in a vale –
Mine to behold, mine to ponder
And marvelous myriad things to wonder
And a sky unclouded and clear
And spiritual eyes to see beyond my fear.

I have walked on grass, on the sea,
Floated beneath eternity.
And where does one begin or end?
On what does paradise depend?
What poem might sing a dream?
What song articulate a stream?

What words might suffice?
I have lived in paradise.
I have known a love fair.
I long to abide forever there.


That Far

I walked beneath heaven tonight,
Stood underneath endless sky,
Gazed upon a celestial sight,
Looked the gods straight in the eye.

Will you longer detain me here,
Hide behind a bolted door,
Cower under your roof in fear,
Damned earthbound for evermore?

I would fly if I were able,
Recline on a shining star,
Dine from an immortal table,
If my hand could reach that far.


Sonnet for an Atheist

O, how free was I when I went my way,
Each dogma cast as grit beneath my tread!
And how the simple facts in order lay,
When rid of every falsehood in my head!
Atheist I am called for my worldview,
Denying lies which render theists blind,
Seeking the path toward all that is true,
With a stalwart heart and resolute mind.
But I have more than rejection of lies
And cowardly comfort of endless breath,
Which religious fools and liars devise
To dull away the sting of certain death.
Rich in the lavish lap of truth I live,
   Possessing gifts that gods can never give.


O Peace of Night

Thou art my love and my longing.
‘Tis of thee I pine the day long,
Till twilight to thee comes thronging,
And shadows gather for thy song.

While errant sunbeams wander,
As daylight falls off to sleep,
The stars arrive to ponder
Thy fields of infinite deep.

I come to thee for space.
In thee I seek my inner light.
In thee I found my place.
Thou art my love, O peace of night.


Say That It Was Not in Vain

Say that it was not in vain.
Accept the loss.
Endure the pain.
Let the dice fall where they will.
May your troubled heart be still.

At the ending of the day,
When all hope has passed away,
Though time leaves no lasting gain,
Say that it was not in vain.