 
SEASON OF RAIN
My season to cry,
Is upon me now,
The thunder billows loud,
The clouds are low,
Oh, how my season changed,
Yesterday was bright,
But today brings with it rain,
Another time for growth,
The season that hurts most,
My soul does search for Christ,
Amongst the storm of pain,
My season to cry,
Will one day pass away,
With it the rain will dry,
Then, will I have arrived,
To begin, A brand new day.
Copyright ©2004 Mona Denise Collins
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