Stronger is the Will

I carried the weight of sorrow too great to hold

And could not let it go for it remained

All that was left of riches more precious than gold,

The radiant one, the pure, of joy unstained.

The years pass slowly before these ancient eyes,

In a body despite its age, still unknown,

That only in moments is able to recognize

The Inhabitant within by which it has grown.

The way is found, the problem lies not there

But in the sullen forces that oppose

And cling to their misfortunes and despair

More precious than the essence of the rose.

The climb is long and steeper seems the hill

Yet by Her Grace stronger is the will.