Breath

Breath, my breath...the thumping that you hear,
Is still out in the distance, you have nothing to fear
And those riders of light that bang, crack, and burn
Are there to remind you what we have earned.
They are only figures in the oil and pastel
Not the painter sleeping where the angels fell.

Listen for the whispering rocks and streams
Because they will be there in your dreams
Those silent sirens of a path in color shades

God does not grant strength, he grants the opportunity to be strong

Sorrow is the chance for strength