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Jun 2014
As the wind gently sweeps in,
*The promise of tomorrow

Touches my being.
The rustle of the leaves
With the transient tone of the breeze.
Standing at the edge of glory,
I see my rise and fall.
And as the thunder begins,
To make its way near,
A drop of rain, falls
To become one with the ground.
Long awaited,
Something to fill my soul.
The water to quench the thirst
That rages within.
Let it rain,
And fill my barren soul.
Let the wind blow,
Let the thunders roar,
*My soul awakens to life once more.
Meenu Syriac
Written by
Meenu Syriac  India
(India)   
405
       ---, ---, Richard Riddle, Tim Emminger, --- and 4 others
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