About the Poem
This sojourn represents the evolution of healing, the spirit of a heart that has been touched only to be abandoned.
This poem (or whatever it is) was a work in progress for a little over a year. I'm not sure if it is entitled to be "poetry", but it still speaks to me deeply and I wanted to share it with others.
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The Spirit Of My Heart
|by Clare Ireland|
Sitting patient in the shadow 'til the blessed light shall come,
a serene and saintly presence sanctifies my troubled meek heart.
Simple joys and hopes and sorrow all at once break
like ripples on the shore of the deep & solemn river
where my willing feet now firmly stand.
Oh, I can still see him in my dreams,
passing through my soul and then,
leaving me, as a gift,
those virtues which I have seen beautify our life.
Somehow, this still leaves me incomplete.
If only he could bequeath me those things he has already learned.
Those of patience, the kind that gives one
the power to sustain a cheerful, noncomplaining spirit
in this never ending moment of pain.
Give me, for I need it sorely, of that courage, wise & sweet,
which has made the path you lead
clear and purposeful beneath your feet.
Though our parting seems like yesterday,
daily life tries to soften something of its bitter pain,
and while learning this hard lesson,
my great loss surely must become my gain.
For the touch of grief
will render my nature more serene,
give life to new aspirations,
a new trust in the unseen.
Henceforth, safe across the river,
I shall see forevermore,
the spirit of my future
waiting for me on the shore.
Hope & Faith, born of my sorrow,
pillars in my life they shall become,
and the foundation on which they stand
shall be my heart.
Now, I don't feel as if I've wasted any moment of the last four years.
I'm not so good as you've made me, but, I have tried to do right;
and now when it's too late to even try to do better in your eyes,
it's a comfort to know that someone loved me only the way you did.
I feel as if I also helped you in some small way.
More than anything in the world, I used to think I couldn't let you go,
but slowly, I'm learning to feel I didn't lose you,
that you'll be more to me than before
and that nothing could truly part us,
though it seems to have already done so.
I know it cannot, and I don't fear it any longer,
for I am sure I will always be your angel to love
and pray for you more than ever.
When and if you turn to me, I won't fail you -
and if it's hard sometimes to be alone,
remember that I wont' forget you
and that you'll always be happier in reading splendid books,
collecting great art and seeing all the world.
Yet, love is the only thing we carry with us wherever we go,
so know this, mine is still with you.
So, now the spring is upon us, the time of year we first met.
The sky is clear, the earth green, the flowers up and blooming,
and the birds sing to say goodbye to your Clare, who,
like a tired but trustful child,
clung to the hands that had led her for so long,
as they unknowingly guided her through the storm
and when the earth seemed dry and safe, gave her up.