Your reaping a harvest of tears, sweet mother
Reaping a harvest of tears at last
The river that flows to the throne, sweet mother
Has marked your prayers of years now past
Oh, as you dwell in a realm unspoken
Where beauty and love take the place of tears
May your softly spoken prayers yet echo
Throughout the ageless, countless years
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Wow. So raw and open. This cuts to the heart. I love it. God bless and keep serving. Thanks for opening your heart.