The Ministry of Sorrow
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Pools of calm replace convulsion;
the shaking of the dreadful quake.
Perfect repose succeeds destruction.
peace soon follows in its wake.
The Promise is good as the One who makes it;
as effective as the one who takes it.
The lilies gleam, the reeds they whisper,
even while they lie in shadow.
Mercy smiles for grace has kissed her;
life returns to the ground so fallow.
Behold the drought that came with sin;
it gives way to the fountain.
The quake dies with its din,
leaving behind a mighty mountain.
So I wait for my time;
I'm in the hand of mighty Mirth.
He holds my life with strength sublime
like holding the corners of the earth.
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