Hymn of Comfort

Calon Lan is a Welsh Hymn my mother (and grandmother) used to sing to me when I was a child.

Though countless years have lapsed, I still perceive
your sparkle through September brume. If wilting
I’m replenished, when I catch your lilting
voice and feather-touch upon my sleeve.

Refreshing, like a west-wind through the yews
in dog days heat, your peony perfume
revitalizes, wafting round my room.
When tossed in sleepless waves, all thoughts askew,

I hear familiar strains of Calon Lan,
then drift into a soporific cave,
discovering the tranquil pool I crave.
As timbres linger, threads begin to darn

the frayed perimeters of life’s debris,
repair my yearning for your company.