The Widow’s Herbs

A sharing of sorrows rekindles hope

A new widow came to the door of another
weeping and broken
crushed with the weight

Bitter herbs was what she had
unfulfilled dreams
tears and regrets
brought to share with a friend

She brought them with her
laid them on the table
foolish they seemed
not worthy of mention

Tis not true, the older widow said
These herbs are special indeed
If you look on my shelves
to the right and to the left
the same dark herbs you’ll find.

Yours are fresh and full of aroma
Mine haved dried with age
But the scent of yours and those of mine
each remains the same

And they shared their herbs,
the new and the old,
the losses, the tears, the pain
a new fragance entered in

And their hearts were lifted,
first one and then the other,
as deep wounds began to mend
Arms were linked in a common bond,
this would not be the end

Dreams again filled their minds
joys yet to be fulfilled
They talked and laughed side by side
comrades in life they would be

Eyes were set on future days
Plans were made for living
Wrapping each other in a warm embrace
Hope again rekindled

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Published in: on May 4, 2009 at 6:01 pm  Leave a Comment  

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