By Kerinth Campbell
For each tear is a pearl of anguish
Which God Himself tenderly catches
And gently places in a golden bowl.
Cry…For words fail to tell of the
Searing pain and grief
Which twists like hot sharpened knives
Into the core of your being.
Cry, my dear, For if truth be told,
God understands the language of
He, too, cries with you…
He feels the same grief…
He knows that womanly pain.
He understands the bereft moments and
He agonises with the intensity of your emotions.
Yes! God knows the sound
Of a woman’s language of tears…
Copyright © KERINTH CAMPBELL | Year Posted 2016
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