Kim Suttell

Centuries of Consolation

Day is coming. The day shall rise with healing in its wings.
The sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.

Everything on Earth stands in danger. So it appears but
peace is near, we don’t realize, with healing in its wings.

When a ship-course is unstable and seas are dark, a guide
quickly moves in, like a squall flies, with healing in its wings.

A hundred-pound pain and thousand-fold ache. What help for us?
Trust good will come for us in all guise, with healing in its wings.

Not knowing what comes in the morning and night hissing.
Soft at our side soft solace lies, with healing in its wings.

The arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble,
mown low by a voice we call wise, with healing in its wings.

I won’t settle. I can’t be weary in doing what is right.
In dreams of hope the soul tries, with healing in its wings.

 

Kim Suttell,a previous contributor to the Ghazal Page, finds consolation in words and the way we take them for our own, and yet they are never depleted. Her poems live at page48.weebly.com.