Ish

I am grateful for the rising sun,  
For every day that’s just begun.  
The golden light that warms my face,  
And time that moves at its steady pace.  

I remember the day you picked me out,  
A shimmer on your wrist, young and proud.  
The world was bright; you were full of dreams,  
With laughter and plans bursting at the seams.  

When the echoes of voices have softened their sound,
And the campaign signs come down from the ground,
We’re left in the quiet, in the soft light of dawn,
To mend what is fractured, to carry on.