When mourning lights at far horizons dance
They chase away all freezing nightmare shade.
The flowing twilight melts the icy lance
And wards the haven where new life is laid.
New flowers bloom in gently waning shade,
Well nurtured in the cooling, faded ash,
That drifts in winds that sweep the barren glade
And carry seeds of sleeping nature's cache.
Once blackest clouds have met in roaring clash
They yield embattled sites to gentle rains
To quench their thirst at river’s lively splash
And cross the bridge where tender light remains.
The starving soils catch water, ash, and seed
To praise return, forgiving past misdeed.