Unbend the weight; the senses leaving, <br />Retract the visions in the head, <br />In some other wandering grove <br />Another day is nearly dead. <br />From far across the nestled years, <br />Now the footsteps find the bed. <br /> <br />Murmured syllables, thinning breath, <br />Nothing left to wake forthwith; <br />Eyelids open, turn inside, <br />No resurrection is attendant, <br />The still flame rises like burning air <br />To the place where no thing’s there. <br /> <br />Adrift goes time, like heavy mist, <br />And pauses before ‘day’ and ‘night’; <br />Unhurried moments come in waves, <br />The shadow moves like drifting light. <br />In that fullness, a garden grows <br />And all is peace in heaven’s fold.<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/heaven-s-fold/
