Where Sorrows Flow
It appears that sadness flows, like a river;
and yet, somehow makes love grow;
the imperfect gift; from the perfect giver;
who decides; where sorrows flow?
How can love, ever build on such sorrow;
how does despair, make us grow;
our eyes must be fixed, beyond tomorrow;
a place, where no sorrows flow.
Unfortunately, tomorrow can never come;
it shall always remain today;
the days, have all, coalesced into one;
who will take the sorrows away?
All sorrows are, but memories, of past;
but, where did that past flow;
nothing, so inconsequential, can last;
so where do those memories go?
Love’s great power; the power to forget;
it’s the only way love can live;
love cannot survive; the sorrow of regret;
love, demands we forgive.
We’re told; we all reap what we sow;
memories must fall on the sword;
experience always makes us grow;
sorrows only bring us reward.
We are all prodigals, who hunger and thirst;
all given living water to grow;
we are life; from the last; to the first;
in heaven; no sorrows flow.
Monty 5.18.26. # 3,310