The pitter patter against
The cold window pane was
A steady beat as I cried
At the cruelty of life.
With words so swift,
My fragile world of glass
Was shattered beyond repair
And now I sit among
The countless shards.
Slowly down the glass,
I watch rain droplets
Reflect my streaming tears,
Falling one by one
Adding to my inner despair.
But there is a voice
Calling to me from beyond
The cold, spattered glass.
A call to shift my
Nearsighted gaze, to
See past the dripping
Drops, past the sorrow,
And through the window.
Suddenly revealed to me
Is a glorious sight;
Green shoots rising from
The ashy ground, new
Life proclaiming a mystery
So breathtakingly wondrous.
So, despite the cold rain,
I focus, with sweet grace,
On the glorious plan
That lies beyond the glass,
And one day, the rain
Will forever cease to fall.
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