Light Amidst Shadows

We come for respite, to recall or to forget
who once we were meant to or thought we might be.
Alone among others, each with our own woes, cares, and dreams,                                                 to carry, to mull over – most of all, truly longing to be free. 

Brief shared knowing glances, suggesting communion or
from our worries, perhaps a time to finally see.
In each other’s eyes, our own stories made clearer,
while hoping that our Soul stirrings can be soothed by the breezes through the trees. 

And children, and pets too, still so full of wonder,
and so busy in the present – distracted and distracting
us, the weary and wary, who now doubt that such carefree moments can last.                         Might sheer longing or lingering here
produce for us a lasting peace – could that ever come to pass? 

But dusk advances towards us from the distance– the shadowy mists always rise
crossing swiftly to fretful night-falls, so, on these fleeting, memorable moments, we rely.
Before the light fails us we catch glimpses of wishes granted–while resting on these benches beneath dappled branches and birdsong, transfixed, perhaps even beguiled. 

Oh – Artist at the easel, please bring us some perspective and light- only you can stretch this present repose across your canvas, smooth and tight.
You must know that we will soon need to go; you it appears, can see, and can hear us. 

Tell us please–can your brush really soothe our uncertainties or soften our faults? Can your palette of colors scatter our troubles, or slow them all to a painterly halt? 

Perhaps that is too much for us to ask. 

Above all, paint us sincerely: in this, you have our trust. Sketch our lives swiftly but not without sympathy – so that we may, at last, imagine our best selves enduring                                     through the days… past the decades, and alas–and especially– beyond our “return to dust.”