When clouds grow heavy, skies turn gray,
Hope whispers softly, lighting the way.
In darkest hours, the sun still waits,
Beyond the storm, beyond closed gates.
A golden glow, a gentle rise,
The promise held in morning skies.
For even nights must greet the dawn—
Hope and sunshine carry on.
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A pocketful of sunshine and
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"Never are we nearer the Light than when the darkness is deepest."-Swami Vivekananda-
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Blessings to you,
Bing