by Mick Goodson
How can a heart that never ached
now falter at one name,
or touch that always chilled a spine
now warm as mellow flame?
Rain soaked birds upon their wing
descend from overhead,
to raise their song and lift this day
my barren life now spared.
Weak threads are now regenerated
to awaken my spirit new,
and feel first time a warmth and glow
as worn pages of life accrue.
For sorrows that descended on me
float past my barricade,
are lifted now and turned to ghosts
- since love first time we made.