Black night,
we burned our prayers
at your feet,
carried by incense
they went up
with the heat.
Gray morning,
I went outside
and I mournfully found…
the vessel from last night
lying on the ground.
It was filled with water,
though it did not rain…
“Why, oh why dear Lord
would they be drowned
in vain?”
“Oh, my child, don’t you see?
It is not rain that I sent,
but filled with fallen tears
as Heaven’s knee bent.”
White light,
shining upon my breast
as His words penetrate
that smoky blessed;
never fret your prayers
be forgotten
for water makes ALL
that is faithful blossom.