www.marywickham.com

Beyond Grief

Light chink above me,
small incursion of contrast;
strangely sensate I am once more
where no more once more has been.,
to know such apparentness of day.
Not from the toes’ tips, extremities,
does the blood begin again
blushing torpor’s cold,
but as a surge of brandied gold,
suffusion of potent geniality
warm world becomes
from the centre
slow, saving, sure.
Such is resurrection.

Hope and Healing