Just when I think I cannot bear another drab day,
Spring pours her golden rays across the land,
Coaxing buds and blooms from barren branches,
Calling slumbering bulbs from winter beds,
Crowning the earth with blossoms bright, while
Birds weave grassy nurseries and
Broadcast lullabies on silken breezes.
Just when I think God no longer speaks,
A hymn, a verse or someone’s words,
Carried on a Holy Wind,
Flashes insight so clear, it renews
Tarnished vision to first brilliance.
Just when I think it all an absurd illusion,
Just then, He speaks to me.
For, behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds has come. . . .
Song of Solomon 2:11-12 (AMP)
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