Kind Promise: I will appreciate blessings.

Around me beauty sings its melodies
I cannot stop my soul from its reply
When yellow, red and orange blaze through the trees
And dawn turns gold a spire that scrapes the sky

These tunes are blessings to my shadowed life
Awakening my sense of what can be
They pull me up from suffering and strife
Invite me to respond and thus be free

And though my hands are weak and fingers shake
‘There’s none but art itself can cure this ache