Cradled by angels, hearing melodies,
I never asked to be born, to live.
But, as time goes by,
life is my mission.
Still, I feel angels present in ev’ry breeze
as tears rim my eyes.

Cradled, too soon to grow, to feel misery,
I ache to be enveloped in love.
But, as time goes by,
I find friends and thrive--
occasionally hear the flutter of wings . . .
as tear fall down, slide.

Cradled, my son softly gurgles, trusting me.
It’s ecstasy . . . him cherishing me.
But, as time goes by,
the earth cradles him.
There is no substitute anywhere . . .
tears fall deep inside.

Cradled in earth, I’ll rise for our reunion;
our joint tears will kiss the drought-dry, rain.
But, as time goes by,
hold me in your heart.
Every moment you need me, I’ll be there . . .
catching each tear cried

as time goes by.