For Mum

Today marks two years since my mum, Jan, passed away. It felt strange to write my weekly Sunday post and not acknowledge it in some way.

I’ve found comfort lately in the idea that every atom that has ever existed is still here – nothing truly disappears. In that sense, my mum carries on. And of course, I carry her with me every day, in my memory and in my heart.

She was Dorset born and bred, and I’ve inherited her love for Thomas Hardy. His writing is so rooted in the land and people of the South West – or his fictional Wessex – that the landscapes he evoked often come to mind when I’m out walking. I read this poem at her funeral, and today feels like the right time to share it again.

Song of Hope is a rare, quietly uplifting piece from Hardy – full of sorrow, yes, but also of the promise that even the darkest nights shift toward morning. I share it in the hopes that it brings some of you comfort, if you need it.

—

Song of Hope
Thomas Hardy

O sweet To-morrow! –
After to-day
There will away
This sense of sorrow.
Then let us borrow
Hope, for a gleaming
Soon will be streaming,
Dimmed by no gray –
No gray!

While the winds wing us
Sighs from The Gone,
Nearer to dawn
Minute-beats bring us;
When there will sing us
Larks of a glory
Waiting our story
Further anon –
Anon!

Doff the black token,
Don the red shoon,
Right and retune
Viol-strings broken;
Null the words spoken
In speeches of rueing,
The night cloud is hueing,
To-morrow shines soon –
Shines soon!

—

For Mum.

Above: Sandsfoot Castle - Dorset
Header Image: Weymouth Harbour - Dorset