My fingers play adagios. My feet splash through the rain.
My eyes dissolve as twilight paints a masterpiece, again.
My ears discern the whispering that beckons to MY SOUL.
Its breezes tease my windblown hair to warn me of the cold.
How does MY MIND get hold of this, this paradox of life,
Where beauty so exquisite cuts both ways as with a knife?
When laughter turns to choking sob, no senses comprehend
Why Happiness should fly away as fast as she descends.
While elders who have borne the load seek refuge from the wild,
The ravages of sin and death wreak havoc on this child.
My arms ache sore to hold you close, much longer than before,
Because MY HEART, remembering, invites Hope to restore.
However pain and suffering tow treasures in their wake,
By His design, this Life from death plumbs promises to stake.
Its cadence steals MY BREATH away. We dance on broken feet.
I have no explanation---yet! (My name is Bittersweet).
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