Cary Briel

Know not I climbed
Our large tree
That looms so high?
And noticed I
In looking down
Past storied gown
Of haunt-strewn time,

Seeing you,
Your imaged form,
How far, how far below? it’s hard to know,
Your soul aglow;
What pained sorrow, what mortal gloom,
Do eyes betray
A tomb?

Or so it seemed,
Your tears that gleamed;
I cannot know,
Height will not show;
Must I descend
To dawn again
Ere time stood still?

His silenced will.