What rain is for the soil,
Tears are for the soul,
Washing the anguish within
Awakening the feeling of hope.
For who can understand
The depth pain of the soul?
At the dawn arrival
Shining brightly the sun’s rays,
Bringing healing to a new day,
Nature cries to its Creator
On its last breath between life and death.
The world’s colors turn to gray
It’s winter dominating; all die.
Silencing the stormy wind
Sobs is the song of the troubled heart,
One after another, bringing console of relief
With bent knees, bent mind.
Holding to Him I cry, Lord!
The valley is deep and dark
No light to guide the blind eyes.
Far, far away songs of birds I hear
Faintly, yet assuring with a whisper of hope
Spring in color, dancing to the tunes,
Even butterflies waiving their wings
Kissing the flowers in bloom
The sun smiles
At the morning arrival!
Weeping may endure for a night
But joy comes in the morning (Ps. 30:5b)
