New Song

Fist don't clench.
Arms unfold.
Hands don't rend your
hair and clothes.

Mouth don't tense.
Eyes don't mist.
It won't always
feel like this.

Fields that felt the grinding teeth
of locust bloom to flowers, sheath
those months with glory and
forgiving rays.

Joy brings forth a lovely scent,
which wafts among those hours spent
in unfulfilling,
disappointing days.

Fist don't clench.
Arms unfold.
Hands don't rend your
hair and clothes.

Mouth don't tense.
Eyes don't mist.
It won't always
feel like this.