I know because a gray cloud cloaks my soul,
I stand upon the brink of day, though predawn sky’s still dark.
I trust a spark of morning’s bursting light will soon burn through,
Lifting fog, creating clarity,
Slash a way to scrape through buried pain,
It will take time…
So, too, becoming jaded to the cold
and drenching rain; but it will come; Fate must be satisfied.
I’ll gather strength to face the solitary winter wait,
Like bulbs beneath the over-wintered ground,
For warmth to burgeon through, to bloom once more,