Complaint

We walk in the rays of soft sunshine That glow in the arms of love; And never appreciate the blessings God showers on us from above. For I am feeling as I count them That we have more than we need; And all we don't have are the angels To bring heaven to earth indeed. The winter brings long fire lit twilights The spring brings a season of flowers Summer brings all a sweet harvest While fall brings the scent of sad hours. The woods are alive with birdsong A moon paints the waves of the sea; The meadows are scented with clover And all earth is as good as can be. But people are full of such protest Discontent is always their sad lot; They forget so much has been given And go whining for all they have not. Instead of the light in the heavens That shines on our day and our nights; They look at the dirt on their feet And forget all the earth’s delights. They drink the wine that is sour And never taste that which is sweet. They moan for the thorn on the rose Not heeding its scent so replete. They don’t look at the garden of bloom Precious blessings there without number; They weep for what lies in the tomb. Who lie in the arms of death’s slumber. The error is ours to confess They can’t find the way to go; They close their eyes while the heart denies That Eden is not theirs to know.