In Winter's Womb is Hid the Child of Spring

I am swayed by both remembrance and regret

And buffeted by storms that seem to last

Beyond the soul's endurance and forget

The higher calling, haunted by the past.

I stand upon a plain in present time,

A tortured Janus, the future looking back,

Hesitant to dare the daunting climb

And all my life a weird and winding track.

I know there shall be other births for me

Too much remains undone, the spirit weeps

For the hiatus in my destiny

And lone within its silent vigil keeps.

Now in the season of the dying leaf

One feels that death could shatter everything

Yet in my heart I know apart from grief,

In winter's womb is hid the child of Spring.