At times like this

At times like this,
we may look through books
for the perfect words
to give form to our feelings,
make the thing complete,
set the matter at rest.
Yet, in hours of searching,
each piece lies rejected -
too precise, too difficult, too sweet,
too harsh, implying what we do not wish
to say.

But, look into the grey wide sky,
and the thoughts will come
like this:
Remember me when I loved you most
and you loved me most.
Remember me when I was my bravest
and I did you right.
Then, let that be our secret bond
and, just once, let us rise in the morning
and enjoy the light
and know that that bird in the mist
is returning, is returning to the sun.