Sorrow/Joy

Sorrow - the sleep of Joy - slips slowly in,

on evening shadows when her day is done

And tips her cup of Chamomile to catch

the last touch of warmth

from the beauty of the day that has been

She lifts Joy up, stepping stocking-footed

among the pages of Harlequin romance

scattered underfoot where Joy let them fall

as sleep found her, alone, with the TV Guide

She draws the flannel covers back

to lay sweet Joy's head upon the pillow

And keep watch by the window

as the heavens turn

What could have been, but was not,

and what was - Basho's lament: "If only, if only"

She sings hope's saddest song

her own long, lingering lullaby

Until the eastern sky grows crimson

with creeping flame of day

And Sorrow, lulled to sleep at bedside

by the dreams of what could have been

Awakes again as Joy, to the beauty of what simply is

(For a friend who just lost her father)