Only in the darkest of times,
does the light shine most bright.
Only upon heathen lands, do flowers bloom most pretty ..
For if it was not for the dark, we would not have known light_ and if we were not witness to such droughts, would we ever sing rain songs ?
A tree blossoms in spring, because it had withered away, in its winter.
The water from the rain skies flow as answer to those repugnant summers. As you grow older, so you see the beauty in pain .. and as it makes you wiser, you do not see anything, ever the same..
Life is not distasteful, if you have a wider eye .. be observant, my child, be marvelously alive ..
And this and nothing else, would have been thy calling, and this and nothing else would be meaning to your being !