How Late The Hour

How late the hour or early still –

The moon she hides behind the cloud;

Tears of rain fall – in me instil –

A sadness which does grow so loud;

Yet in a sense it cleanses me –

This crying of the sky tonight;

I feel the water and can see –

My inner self by lunar light;

No darkness here just Nature – Man –

Much bigger than depression – fear –

I feel so humble – smaller than –

A single drop of Mother's tear;

Sadness turns to contentment now –

Which God and Nature both allow.