a poem by Devika

I am glad to have received these Gifts:

To trudge through fields of sorrow
And reach a harvest strong-
Gather sheaves of wisdom
And silence inborn…

To watch the hours of darkness
Fade in the light of dawn-
Assured of the promise
That will ensure a balm…

To hear the laughter mock me
And know I am not wrong-
Accustomed to slights
That fail to shame my song…

To hold a hand held out for help
When no-one holds my hand-
Knowing when my task is done,
I’ll drift along the sand…

To feel no pity for myself
No resentment for what’s gone-
No anger at the Powers that be,
Just magic and a song…