When the Clouds Gather

When the vicissitudes of life press near,

And hope retreats, eclipsed by fear,

Keep pressing on, though skies turn gray

The darkest night gives birth to day.

Though clouds may brood and thunder groan,

And winds may cut you to the bone,

Stand firm, endure the heavy drum

For from the storm, the rain will come.

Not all that falls is meant to break;

The rain can cleanse, the soul can wake.

So let it pour, and soak your skin

New life begins where trials have been.