rags - an original poem

if you were to ask for riches,
I would give you my rags,
that you would have the gift
that was given to me long ago

in the sackcloth of my heart
i was given ashes and grey
for to grieve in this world
is the only kindly response

that a bluejay lights on a limb
only to devour the worm
and a bee lights on the flower
to steal it's very life, the amber

is the law we have been given
and only those who deny this
truly come to deep sadness
and go beyond the mild melancholy


for just as the strawberry winter
robs Spring of it's coming
and the Summer still can rage in October
so in the deepest joy is there a hint of sadness
and in the darkest night, the hint of morning...