New Born

The shadows of sorrow deepen
The minor miseries and great
Unfold, slightly unexpected
And the great mystery is not this
But that somehow the weary eyes
See through it all (in general)
To some unfathomed promise
The grandchild still delights and
Is welcomed even though it’s known
His life must inevitably be littered
With regrets, lost friends, disease
And hopes scattered and disappointed
All this is known and understood
And yet the weary eyes don’t cry
But smile with joy untainted



Comments

  • Lance Leopold
    Lance Leopoldover 7 years ago

    Beautifully said Martin,and thank you for sharing your thoughts.

  • RonniLeigh
    RonniLeighover 7 years ago

    awwww how precious it is a delight to read New Born. I really like this!

  • chanel
    chanelover 7 years ago

    Lovely words, well said!

  • kseriphyn
    kseriphynover 7 years ago

    New born is always new hope, and that is something worthy of celebrating.

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