Stolen Away
Too soon, cold sorrow steals from me the light
Of promise, of the hope for growing love
Which I had longed to see his mastery of
Bring him to see such stars divide the night
That he might know it possible that day
Was his as much as anyone’s, and keep
Alive, alight, and not succumb to sleep
As refuge from an endlessly dark way,
But my poor strivings—anyone’s, I guess—
Could never generate the power he
Required to light enough so he could see
In such great bleakness any happiness,
And love and hope, invisible and far
From him as he from me, my distant star.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Beautiful – very powerful and poignant. Thank you dear Kathryn.xxx
I’m glad it spoke to you, dear Janet. But, I hope, not too specifically. 🙂
xoxo
cold sorrow, I know it well… much love to you, Namaste
I’m sorry to know how well you know it. I suppose we all do at some level; while this was written to address the grief of a friend whose brother committed suicide, it recalls as well several lost loves of my husband’s and mine who died too young for a variety of reasons, and each one is precious and difficult in its own special ways.
Namaste, my friend.
Kathryn
Word choice really establishes physical feeling/temp. (Love that first pix, too)
Thank you for your kindness. The first shot is probably just the sky’s tears on the car window, but we all weep for our own reasons, even Mother Nature at times, I guess.
xo
Sky’s tears – great phrase. (Even tears have chemical benefit.)
Sometimes there is no greater benefit than tears, in fact.
Wonderful.
Thank you, Elena. Hope you’re having a lovely week.
xo!