You placed this soul on gracious funeral pyre
where old wounds burn away and form melts down
so clarity can shine through staid desire
and tranquil smile replaces fretful frown.
Like sculptor wielding chisel without tire,
you chipped until huge burdens had all flown;
then tweaked my consciousness with perfect pliers–
and laughed to see how grateful I had grown.
One day you sent me out into the field
of life to be your humble instrument
and gently visit those who could not yield
despair, intent to help them be content
and trust eternal light shall be revealed.
For loss and sorrow serve as complement
to joy. The soul’s complaints are only healed
when we accept that all is heaven sent.
I see, now that you’ve made my heart so tender,
serenity comes only with surrender.