How is it that a loss which was the bane

How is it that a loss which was the bane
of life, and made you limp, becomes your cane?
Your sorrow, pampered like a pet!  You deign
To honor something low and mean, you feign

Dislike but stroke it daily.  See, its gain
Grows faster now, for when you sleep, you’ve lain
In hollow hours, mopping tears, its mane
Draped by your side.  You like familiar pain.

Yet I would send you storm clouds, heavy rain,
To roust and drown this pet, to make you sane
Again, for life is never lived in vain.
If life will grow, of course a life will wane.

So when a heavy loss becomes the bane
Then honor high and bright and love and gain.