by Randy Chambers, 1994-07-01
Rain, the tapestry of night.
Darkened clouds conceal
the Light which would break through
if not for thunder's quaking bite.
And I would kneel beside the bed
of one surrounded by the storm.
To say a word of warm embrace
to shelter with a smile.
And lifting up my eyes to God,
entrust Him with the very soul
of one who knows a greater pain
than I have ever dared endured.
My deepest parts would ache
to rid this one from Satan's grip.
In time, the bloodlet tears of pain
the moans, and cries
would find refrain
as Light breaks through
to rest upon
a weary, troubled heart.
And I within my weary rest
would soon rejoice for answered prayer
to see the end of sorrows borne
by one who suffers endless rain.