Glimpses of Heaven

A rainy day, a wintry day,
As raindrops fall and clouds away
Will blow, and go, and clear the air,
And blue the skies, and make them fair.

The music flows, and music goes,
And pictures paints of day at close,
And weds with reds the sunset sky
As clouds go ever drifting by.

The music sings with angel wings
Of landscapes green, and thus it brings
A flight o'er bright majestic hills:
The room with beauty, music fills.

Yet all of these, the sky, the breeze,
Are nothing more than heaven's tease
Of light and height and beauty bright,
And naught we do but praise His might.