The blossoms fall,
The wind blows...
And the memories flow.
Upon You I call...
The stream trickles
The birds fly.
And no longer do I cry.
As the star twinkles,
Time has been spent with you,
But the memories are not blue.
As I had wept. Now a smile spreads
across my lips,
As the keys of a piano are touched by fingertips.
There is butter on my bread.
My mind is preoccupied by one,
For my heart is the prize that He has won.