Triumph of Hope over Experience
Winds wane. Once blown, no crop's pain sown, no curse
remains to filter through [st]rained watershed.
Today earth's quake, tomorrow wake, ahead
stars wait, - joy's gate - scars heal, love's peal rehearse.
Year's tears soon pass, hours' looking glass reverse
old seasons' reasons cold, aghast, time sped
tick tocks to tocsin block, fast bliss will thread
Love's blessing, - shade, dismayed, is soon dispersed.
With hands unbound, true path found, reimbursed,
scope may be fed, greet fleet mind, unthreads hopes fled.
No ash must stir, no dust rash spur, - instead,
morn blooms again, dawn dooms doom's pen enhearsed.
The seasons flow, tides come and go, and yet
The Ghost of Christmas Past inters regret...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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