The following poem is a poem prescribed as a cure for the feeling of need for assurance when life is most dark and things seem like they will never come right. It comes from an inspiring collection compiled by William Sieghart, The Poetry Pharmacy ; Tried and True Prescriptions for the Heart and Mind and Soul.
I am sharing it as I really need this today and so may some readers.
How should I be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be alright.