Uprush

The joyful uprush of a swallow’s wings

Is what I feel with the coming of spring

And the promise of your arrival

There have been so many deep dark years

Throughout which

We have both been fighting so very hard for survival

Times of deepest dragging misfortitude

When we felt that death would be the final answer

And never again could we dare to hope

For love to come again

And how our souls longed

To be born aloft on angels wings

That rose from ashes of a fire

That burned and burned its way to embers

That died over the long years of our emptying

Counting the unfathomable cost

Of all that was lost to us

But now that I hear the wind in trees

What happiness it brings to think that these

Might be the days of new beginnings

Times of reclaiming new from old

Times of daring once again to be bold

After throwing off the rust and tarnish

Of all that had become weathered and old

But forged over time to solid gold

Deep inside the furnace of our soul