Upon the springtime of your grace / by Zander Ford

Will this sweat

Purify my being

Watering thoughts

Like little seedlings?


Till


Days are young again

Rest in knowing

You are complete


For


Time still cycles

Singing her merry tune

Of this and that

If that and this


She swings from left to right

Holding night like a knife

Cutting this way and that

With a rat-a-tat-tat

Her blade is razor sharp

So be alert

And let your fingers guide her

Lest you become hurt


And


She will mend

All you think you’ve lost

Upon the springtime of your grace

Yes, you will see daylight

healing does take place