Unsaid


treecamping

When last we saw the sun’s demise,
Beyond the world’s red rim,
We huddled high above the night,
Held up by faith’s thin thread.

All through the night’s tear-stained goodbyes,
As light and hope grew dim,
Still grew within an inner sight,
A peace we thought was dead.

As morning’s face reveals the skies,
In life’s most hopeful hymn,
In us new wisdom, burning bright,
Knows now what’s best unsaid.

©Hemmingplay 2015

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