A gentle mourning dove sits on the wire
Raising its soft cry through the ev'ning air.
Some say its voice is melancholy, still
It seems content to me just sitting there.
No mourning in its call is there to find.
It is not crying for the sun to last,
But thanks it for its warmth at close of day,
And quietly tells me, "this too shall pass."
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
A gentle mourning dove sits on the wire
Raising its soft cry through the ev'ning air.
Some say its voice is melancholy, still
It seems content to me just sitting there.
No mourning in its call is there to find.
It is not crying for the sun to last,
But thanks it for its warmth at close of day,
And quietly tells me, "this too shall pass."