Soft Light

Tears of joy and tears of sadness
wash my face and cool a burning soul.
It is joy to remember… “Yes, there just might be a place called home.”
Surely tender friends wait for me to join them.

Blessed joyous hope commingles with blessed sorrow.
Pity for the deeply afflicted Self, left alone for so long.
Knowledge of the long periods of darkness.
Long, dark nights of the soul,
softened by rare but complete moments of light.

How blessed these moments.