Clouds, barricade the sky They hang over trees. Morning light is drab A fitting condition to illustrate my soul. But, what can separate me And my drab soul From the Risen light of Christ? Not the clouds, or the trees!
Not the Clouds

Clouds, barricade the sky They hang over trees. Morning light is drab A fitting condition to illustrate my soul. But, what can separate me And my drab soul From the Risen light of Christ? Not the clouds, or the trees!
Author, podcaster, pastor, and Big Pappa to my grandchildren. View more posts