A wounded heart can still sing.
Though she may sing of sadness and pain,
She can also sing of passion and love.
A wounded heart can still sing.
Though she may sing of sorrow and loss,
She can also sing of sweetness and joy.
Love her, console her, offer her your own listening heart.
No one should cry alone.
Later doesn't matter.
Later isn't now.
Night will come as it does.
But now, now is pure,
Present like a child.
Never thinking it will be tired.
I saw the clouds gather
Gray on the horizon.
Lines move east to west
Heavy with rain.
Come in, come in.
Don't wait for the storm.
No comments:
Post a Comment