Ah, how it hurt her heart,
when she sang out her refrain
to find that most hands reaching back,
best understood her pain.
The sorrow in her songs
was the part which reached their souls,
they felt her hurt, her emptiness,
they met with matching holes.
And when she sang them songs
all of beauty, love, and grace,
they stared in puzzled silence, like
they did not know her face.
And so she sang the dark,
but she mixed it in with light,
so they could always find the stars
within the crushing night.
– s. Clark