grace in spring

where there are corners no broom might yet find
your eye can see what we would name delight
those truths and objects of a better sight
given to us by those who are still kind
a little sympathy's enough to bind
our mortal hearts together in a bright
uncaged and avian moment of pure flight
love is the purpose for which we're designed
the sun may hide behind the slow dull rain
and age is not a power we may defy
but still your voice and smile hold me in place
there is no better remedy for pain
no better vision that could fill my eye
and i am ever grateful for this grace