You sing in hope And waiting sigh With eyes peeled To the sky Clouds rolling in, And would they break With blessings or Will they take? If I sing well Would God not hear And pack grey clouds Full of cheer? A strange surprise, All wrapped in black Might shine

Due to the pain that was worsening in my hands and arms I have been on as much of a writing break as my self control has been able to succeed in. I have of course penned some lines here and there, and this poem was written in fragments, usually

Did you think To put you in a furnace Would not scorch your skin? To come out gold With easy glee And not the surfacing of sin? Or that boiling water hot Would like a warm bath Scathe you not? Like sinking in so comfortably To fire should come easily?