It will be when flowers

Touch the stoop.

When birds embrace

The willful clouds of grace,

We shall encourage

All that God has known.

We shall know the finest

That comes in God’s great hands.

He yields us not temptation,

But rejoices all that is.

He comes in graceful morning,

And stays till dark of night.

He plays his wondrous harp,

And whispers of our love.

He knows our mournful splendor;

He sings of all the joy,

Till rays of sun abound us,

Till we shall weep no more.

Nancy Tate

1998