A Bleeding Woman

I met a bleeding woman in spring, who had been sick for twelve years.

Morning sunshine rests upon her body quietly, not waking her from gentle sleep.

I see through her crystal-clear eyes that there is a bleeding heart within a hardened shell.

She longs for her mission, hiding her heart deep inside.

Silence falls; she closes the door, singing louder at night alone.

Victory may be delayed, but it will surely come with perseverance.

I wait at the gate, not allowed to enter, hearing her songs and prayers.

Recovery will touch her weak body and heal her heart.

Night will not last long; morning will soon arrive.

Alone faith overcomes the darkness as He has promised.