March 1st, 2004
Crystal from the clouds –
Mirrors of a truth mostly ignored.
The mud, left from the snow
So willingly smeared on our faces, arms, and legs,
Sometimes forming pictures of the past.
We bare them like trophies,
Longing for some sympathy.
Bathing in the glory of the filth,
Blinded by the murky water –
Blinded to the possibility of cleanliness.
The clear rain falls, as Your tears cover us.
One clings to my hand, smudges and erases the stain.
Hope of a coming glory pours into the heart as Your tears of joy fall –
Realization of imminent perfection.
Made clean by Your tears.
– Sarah ><>