Flow ye rivers flow, flood the nations with grace and beauty

Finding light in the darkest hour

(a Winter solstice poem by Brock Adams 2019)

Seasons change as seasons must

as all that stands must come to dust

We wittle out our whilesome ways

while dreaming and yearning for brighter days

Now night's long cloak is dearer than

the sweetest dreams of those who ken

and in his cloak's dark undulating sway

sinners dream of better days

and all the cares which come to pass

will find here rest, and deep solace

So lift the furrow from off thy brow

Heaven is in its moment now

Light is reborn, and with the sun

our lives like endless rivers run

Death's brief pause is but a but-in-the-bend

for these rivers run without an end

and when at last they meet the sea

"Thee" and "I" shall be set free

-Brock Adams-