Sunday, July 24, 2011

Life's Lessons

Mother at her 90th birthday celebration, December, 2010
(Photo:  Gina Wilson Diesel)

Mother has always loved poetry, so I was exposed to it at a very young age.  I didn't much appreciate it then, but I certainly do now.  Yesterday, at our July literary meeting, she read one of her favorites.  I love it, and I think you will as well.

Life's Lessons

I learn, as the years roll onward
And leave the past behind,
That much I had counted sorrow
But proves that God is kind;
That many a flower I had longed for
Had hidden a thorn of pain,
And many a rugged bypath
Led to fields of ripened grain.

The clouds that cover the sunshine
They can not banish the sun;
And the earth shines out the brighter
When the weary rain is done.
We must stand in the deepest shadow
To see the clearest light;
And often through wrong's own darkness
Comes the very strength of light.

The sweetest rest is at even,
After a wearisome day,
When the heavy burden of labor
Has borne from our hearts away;
And those who have never known sorrow
Can not know the infinite peace
That falls on the troubled spirit
When it sees at last release.

We must live through the dreary winter
If we would value the spring;
And the woods must be cold and silent
Before the robins sing.
The flowers must be buried in darkness
Before they can bud and bloom,
And the sweetest, warmest sunshine
Comes after the storm and gloom.



Judy said...

Dear Brenda, Your mom's poem hit home tonight. I've been offline taking care of my husband who has been in steady decline. I just lost him on the 9th, and buried him Thursday. Even though we were blessed with lots of caring family and friends, it's looked pretty dark these last few weeks. It is good to be reminded to keep your eyes on the horizon whilst treasuring the wonderful and sometimes painful past. I have been telling my kids and grandkids that if you exercise the capacity to love deeply and wholely and without reservation, you must consider that that gift also brings with it the awesome gift to feel the pain of real loss. Two gifts that those who over protect themselves never experience. I think your mom's poem says it so much better. Brenda, we must have some karma, as what you write is often just right for me the day I check your site! Thank you so much for all your wise and warm and funny postings! love, judy

Brenda said...

On, Judy, I am so sorry about your husband. My thoughts and prayers are with you tonight. I'm so glad the poem spoke to you. God bless you, my dear friend...

All words and pictures © 2008 Brenda G. Wooley