Made swirls and lines, a crazy trick.
Not pictures neat, of birds or trees,
Just messy marks upon his knees.
The rain came down, a heavy weep,
For vanished souls, gone to their sleep.
It fed the grief that grew inside,
Where willow branches, deep did hide.
He hushed his pride, kept still and low,
And called to God, in gentle flow.
He called and called, with burning heart,
Until it felt it fall apart.
A whisper came, a light so bright,
"Your peace is veiled from common sight.
Only a love, so strong and true,
Can find the quiet, kept for you."
