grief

I have seen a glimpse of a place not yet,
covered as if with glistening dew in the
morning sun, being prepared for me to dwell in.
I am not yet there. I am but a sapling learning
how to grow in a new clearing when a tree falls.
Emptiness around beckoning like an early sun’s
lighting of a summer cloud above the morning mist,
serene, with promise. That which fell as harsh rain
might yet fall sweet, refreshing, drawing me onwards
encouraging growth.