does not matter much
from which way winter wind blows
still cuts to the bone
matters not to the victims
from where killing bullets come
does not matter much
from which way winter wind blows
still cuts to the bone
matters not to the victims
from where killing bullets come
sometimes in struggling
the purpose is forgotten
helps to refocus
vision, mission, and values
the truth, the way, and the life
it’s that time again
reflect on both good and bad
rejoice and be sad
what’s done cannot be redone
start anew in this moment
days of pensive mood
earth weeping yet heaven waits
quietly clouds open
perspiration sometimes come
before precipitation
a minute a day
the world is bleeding daylight
soon darkness will reign
unless the Southern Cross reigns
than the opposite seems true