Moment of Mercy

From a winter wood and ways,
ten thousand days.
In a clearing found,
I came to pass.

And with heavy legs and tired heart,
I stopped to watch,
and touch the light.

I held it in my hands and wonder,
so rare so sweet,
it was permitted.
My fingers warmed and brow was soothed,
I loved in moment, and I loved in whole.

And wishing for it not to pass,
I forgot my journey and all questions asked.

But late it was, and brief the day,
so soon to end, with darkened cloud ahead.

With muddied boots on blackened ground,
my feet again their march did make.
And I, with nothing left and no right to wait,
set off again on my mistake.

Now through the trees that bear no leaves,
I travel on with many mouths to feed.

But in that place, remains a piece,
of me, of self,
which I no more shall need.