Silent dawn,
soft and quiet
the wind changed direction.
The rain came
pouring down
in a mournful heart
so quiet
is the crashing
of thunder.

How would you
have lived yesterday
knowing
what the dawn
would yield?

Take His hand
and reach
for the stillness
in your
weathering storm.

I have listened
I heard the voice
echoed
in the falling rain.
I have seen footsteps
left in the water.
To deliver a message
to your heart,
to your soul.

I was walking,
there in your dreams,
in all the things
you cannot notice,
all the things
that have fallen.
She is there,
in the mist that rises.

She is the hand
that rings the bell
for all to hear on Sunday morning.
In the house of silver smoke
she lives and walks
on streets paved in gold.

In a silent world
a whisper reflects
on what is left behind.
She lives, in your home
dancing in the eyes
of your playful twins.

Remember
what has passed away lives
in all that lives in you
and breathes
in the subtle breeze.

Sweet, sweet Rene
dry your eyes.
Escape to your dreams,
where the two of you
can embrace the rain.

For all its worth,
my weary soul
hope thrives in you.
Learn to see her live again.
In the coming days
I will look for your words
in them
I will hear her voice,
inside of you.

This is for my friend Rene who lost her Mother last week. May God be with you, Rene and your family, during the days ahead. God Bless! Tim