Old Anew

It is the glowing eyes of a true friend,
Awakened by the dear one new arrived,
When the first had thought it would be the end,
And without the other’s love barely survived.

Yet, it is found again in the lonely breast
That rises in song for those far away,
A tightening vise grips at her worn thin chest,
And she cries out for a new break of day.

But it isn’t only in the mourning
Of sorrow’s burdened one now released.
It’s found in the celebration turning
Through spheres tangled in eternal peace.

May you find it in the weary trials,
And may it find you when the wine’s in vials.

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