Poems (Kennedy)/April Days
For works with similar titles, see April Days.
APRIL DAYS
THESE are the days when we would be alone, These soft, gray days with margins blue Where glinting sunlight sifted throughAs ragged clouds aside were blown.
There is a mystery in the greening sod, A faint suggestion in the stir Of growing grass and in the whirOf silken wings that whisper: "God."
And through the silence there come back again The faded memories of the past Washed clean of blotting tears at last—Revivified—shrived of their pain.
They walk beside us through the flecks of sun Or white, blown rain of April days— These old, old dreams, and softly raiseThe shielding curtain that the years have spun.
And these are all the company we need. They bring to us, like lost caress, The weird, sweet peace of lonelinessAnd teach us love's forgotten creed.