Skies the color of sparrows' wings;
Trees whose branches end in twigs.
The barren ground is hard and cold
As daylight into dark enfolds.
The warmth has left my soul bereft
Of life and love--the lack thereof.
Uncertain future with no plan--
The days drift by; a shell, not man.
An empty fog; a darkened day
Without the sun, the clouds are gray.
A clouded vision, impaired sight
Oh God! I cry. Where is the Light?
A silent scream, an unheard cry,
A sleepless dream. I wonder, "Why?"
A still-life painting--moving not.
The world's arranged, but I am not.
A joyous dance; their hearts are free!
All take part, except for me.
--by Dixie-Lee Weber