A Measure Of Pain

How can anyone measure their pain;
how can you describe how it feels?
Consider how much wisdom you gain;
for, each gain, comes through ordeals.

Nothing ever learned in this life is easy;
we’re stiff-necked and stubborn, for sure;
an abundance of sorrows makes us queasy;
it’s almost too much to endure.

Success in this world is measured by tears;
the amount of tears still welled up inside;
it grows in volume; as we grow in years;
till they’re no longer able to hide.

Many are those, who complain of their pain;
they say it’s more than they can stand;
those same people often display little gain;
their tears suffered from little demand.

The Master commands each drop of rain;
both, night, and day, he’s always on call;
as the Lord of All, he’s aware of your pain;
and stands nearby, for the sparrow to fall.

The Master showers you with falling rain;
not concerned, that you may get wet;
while showing not even a trace of disdain;
over pain, wisdom caused you to get.

Tears never stop coming, till after you die;
their trail, chronicles the path you’ve taken;
one thing, on which you may finally rely;
tears of death, will dry, when you awaken.

The Master ignores all the pain we have;
measuring the pain, by what we’ve done;
when we finish the race, he applies the salve;
for pain, is how, life’s race is won.