The Dwelling Place for God

I fell among the thorns of grief

Shaken and torn as the falling leaf

Is torn and buffeted and blown

Upon the fields, and I was thrown

To drown in rivers of despair.

I could no longer touch her hair

Or feel the warmth that once I knew

And in my heart the sickness grew.

Day and night were one to me

Blinded by the intensity

Of pain that manacled my soul,

I heard death's bell within me toll.

I could not keep the tears from eyes

That once saw unfold destinies

Of transformation by a light

Descended in our mortal plight.

The garden of my sadness grew

Flowers of diviner hue,

Wave on wave of loveliness

Intensified my barrenness.

The harbingers of early spring

Chanted of love upon the wing

And all the earth in fullness cried,

"Awake, O soul, she has not died

But only changed her outward dress.

Even now she comes to bless

This world of love, do not despair,

The dwelling place for God prepare."