How might a spirit settle in the wind?
After death, how might a soul find peace?
Love lasts long after lips and laughter cease,
Leaving only memories behind.
Out of longings, one might linen spin,
Weaving well the welkin edged with fleece.
Each spirit must from wandering seek release,
Else ever through the weary midnights wend,
Not resting till love's angels dark descend.
