Styling in Grieving

What creates our minds eye?

Is it sight or is it thy?

Do you know me when I cry?

or have you shut one such as I ?

Periods of wondering die,

when I think you have no eye.

Your ears are piercing 

through my sides.

Doth thou know that it be I?

A joyful mourning to thine I,

touching, turning, in my sty.

A tomb, a grave, no more doth I,

turn mine eye to style on High!

Grieving marks of these I bare.

Staring eyes of these I share.

Trying times through lurid grave,

mine own redemption doth I stay.

Crying style of cradle days,

long in tooth my girdle stays.

Turning to my health of Nine,

holding truth for you not thine.

K.A.P.

5/8/2009