Monday, May 17
When there was a beginning
I’d expected an ending
But the road is winding
My feet never found a landing
Still in the midst of searching
Still in the midst of wondering
Have I done wrong by forgiving
Each of your sin and misdoing
If one is on the brink of crying
One thinks one is brave by enduring
Yet that is the way of a weakling
By the allowing of only the heart bleeding
Have I not noticed it is raining?
Am I feeling a storm brewing?
When will I notice the rainbow appearing?
Perhaps I’ll be here waiting, waiting...