seasoned finally
not the kitten
holding tight to a blade of grass
in a terrible storm
surer footing
amazing
unwavering
faith
happy stirred
joy rising
oh the great sting
lingers yet
of the deep love
and loss
not lost

Awake o north wind;and come thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.