By
Hannah Miles
It’s dark,
that makes the light shine clear
It’s night,
that sees the stars appear
It’s
pressure that makes diamonds form
In pain, a
baby’s life is born.
Cocoons,
create the butterfly,
The lows
distinguish out the high.
It’s silence
that makes music sweet
It’s
working that makes rest a treat.
The rains
keep ground from drying up.
New things
grow, as old things rot.
Calm is
known, when storms rage past
We savor
‘first’ when we’ve been last.
Life is
turning; dancing; flow.
Seasons
come, seasons go.
There’s
hurt that can’t be understood
-yet God
works even bad, for good.
Copyright (C) 2015 Hannah miles
Bio: Hannah Miles