Sometimes I get so tired and teary.
I shut my lids for I am weary.
Yet, there are times that come a-calling
that lift me up when I am falling
into that sorrowful place I know
where the sun doesn’t shine
and the strong winds blow.
Should I not treasure these times as well?
They define heaven from having known hell.
So tired, weary or whatever may be
it’s been a long journey that’s come to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem