When You let Your Heart be Gentle and at Ease

When you let your heart be gentle and at ease
you note the play of light, the golden hour
and your sole purpose is only to please
yourself, like every springbent flower

To feel at home, alone among the trees
at peace within, without a passing care
these are the days, I would have more of these
skirting the wilderness, in silent prayer.

New life is something like a breath of spring
and getting older—lingering winter chill
which tries to weary out my well-worn being
and wants to kill my hope, but never will:

Held in the heart of love, there is no doubt
the light within burns bright as that without.