Light in the Dark

I would like to say some words concerning this poem. I don’t consider it my best work or even my favorite, but this one is very special to me. I started writing it when I was in Rexburg a few days ago in the middle of the night. I was trying to sleep but words kept going through my mind and I couldn’t rest until I knew I had written them down. So after my many failed attempts of trying to push the words out of my head and just go to sleep I finally got up at about 4am and turned on my lap top and started writing. This is the finished version only changed slightly from its original form from what I wrote that night.

Within the scent of memory,
I compose a melody of my soul,
Within my chest there abides a power
To hold onto what I consider divine.

Why would my heart I ever abandon?
Why would light I ever conceal?
If a fool to the world I am so branded,
Then I am a fool whose soul has been healed.

Within my thoughts a vagabond I’ve been,
I’ve walked crooked paths and I’ve struggled with pride,
I’ve wandered the halls within the jackets of sin,
And cried in the night praying, “God, let me die!”

But it becomes clear when I reflect on my Friend,
Who’s always been there and helped me to see,
He was always so near especially at the end
Of my own life, but I found a new me.

How can I deny a thing that I’ve seen
And continue to pray in good conscience today?
And is my chest really warmed by foolish things?
It’s not, for these gifts I could never defame.

A light I have seen and it saved my life,
And it promised blessings and gave me works,
As a vision to my mind more pristine than ice,
It gave me new life and blessed me with words.

A sensation divine as it healed my heart,
It penetrated my teary, swollen eyes devade,
It succored my body that was filled with dark,
And kept my blood pumping while my essence did fade,

It bade me come close and said without remiss,
“The shade of a rose is tranquil but know this,
The color will fade but the memory of a kiss,
Brings with it its scent and a heavenly bliss.

The light that gives life and its sweetness is true,
The shade of the rose can be pink, purple, or blue,
E’en the withered red rose you still can reflect
On a lifetime of beauty, memories and respect.

I’ve been brought to the ends of the stars through my tears while I’ve cried,
I saw there a light and it in the night I will never deny,
I’ve in unfathomable ways crossed the widest divide
To find a light in the dark that I consider divine.

-Jacob Winterfeldt