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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