In Early April Violet,
the ground is white and so is the sky
Somewhere from deep within I can feel
My hope return and my eyes begin to shine
The burden on my back so long starts
To lift, as does my head to receive droplets
Turned to streams of sweet red wine
Raining on me like righteousness.
Perhaps my years have grown too big
For my soul, or perhaps not
But at least I have learned to see
My limits, perfection I cannot attain
Though I need no longer try,
For this my Friend has accomplished,
And I have more than once
Been surprised at the true divine love at
the bottom of my heart.