Like Puddles On An Asphalt Street (An Oldie From Voo's Vault)

 

Like Puddles On An Asphalt Street

 Round and round this life, it goes

And where it stops, the Good Lord knows

Like puddles on an asphalt street

The silver water cool and sweet

Each tear that falls is gathered up

And safely stored inside His cup

And poured upon the soul's parched land

Where roses spring forth from His hands

Tears turn to rivers and then to tides

Of mighty oceans far and wide

And then are used to wash us clean

From the deaths of  our old dreams

Down comes the rain made of our tears

And down the drain go all our fears

Round and round this life, it goes

And where it stops, the Good Lord knows.

©by Voo

Aug 5, 2006