By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Shadows of the Season
My baby’s hands
so fine
so perfectly formed
hiding crease and fold
within their tiny grasp
as though from years of bending.
What shadow do I see
across his palm
as he lies gently sleeping?
My baby’s face
so pure
and smooth
holding life and love
behind his eyes
as though from years of living.
What shadow do I see
upon his brow
as he lies sweetly smiling?
My baby’s work
so fine
and good
revealing skill
with plane and saw
as though from years of building.
What shadow do I see
upon the wood
as he stands waiting, watching?
My baby’s words
so timeless
wise and true
chosen well
to mend the wound
as though from years of healing.
What shadow do I see
upon his lips
as he speaks of his leaving?
My baby’s life
so fragile
yet so strong
blending sacrifice and mercy
together on one cross
as though from years of giving.
What shadow do I see
upon my heart
as he hangs bruised and bleeding?
My baby’s grave
so empty
so absent of his flesh
entombing nothing
of his life
as though from years of knowing.
What shadow do I see
dispelled in light
as He comes to me, risen!
~
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
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“Shadows of the Season” (c) 2019 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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Beautiful! Thank you!
Thank you, Marjorie. So glad you enjoyed it. Have a blessed Christmas.
What a lovely meaningful poem. One I will definitely keep. Thank you.
So glad you enjoyed it, Eileen.