Unmeasured Momentum

Those times were lit
and nothing seemed too hard.
The trail of tears,
was forgotten and gone.
The shade of darkness
hid its face from the pall of dawn.
Wearied faces smiled at ease
for the dawn presented a thrill of awe,
unseen and unfelt.
The wait was o’er O falling boughs
if you remember,
and young eyes blinded with depthless black
measured the momentum of fearless hope.