Sierra V. Fedorko

the flowers we planted
would bloom,
draw the birds over time.
the birds would sing
in the morning
louder than my sorrow,
or equal to my joy.
I studied this for a while,
bitter in spirit or sweet
of soul
until the comfort of God
won out;
the birdsong
had never been a commentary
on my life season at all,
it was simply
the Lord God doing
beautiful things
as He always had and will
forevermore.

read more:

The Heart of Hugh – a story released chapter by chapter to your inbox when you’re subscribed to my Substack

A Poem for What It’s Like Being a Mother

The Grace of God in Seasons of Pain