Shadow Of Love
With the winter sun hung over awaits my father,
by Carol Cool
Who holds up his head to the golden rays;
So gentle and smooth the shaft of light,
It carves contours of shadow and its like.
Hastily I dashed towards his open arms,
My compassion swells up just in time.
Under his shade the sun still overwhelms,
Deepening his shadow with that of mine.
Hues of shades dance in my eyes,
Never do I realize its richness before.
Colors of green, red and yellow I adore,
In the brightest colors the shadow lies.
A gaze at father’s face dens my heart,
Same contours of nose, color of eyes.
Yet amid the known the shadow looms.
Pry, pry in vain the concealed room.
What color of shadow love shall cast?
Anger, rejection and a hardened heart.
To redeem my heart no ransom too high.
To love, to forgive, to smother a sigh.
Sweet, fresh air the wind breathes in,
The tender caress by air of grace.
By grace our God redeems our sin,
To receive His grace, father this I pray.