Always with a reliable body

stand upright

Looking at the distant sky,

You make a light pink smile

It is Nostalgia for the hometown of India

Comforting other living branches,

You live together with them.

The empty sky at sunset

You who dye it red

This is the story of the lives of strangers.

Recently, more than a month

The insurmountable heat continues

The river that exposed its bottom

It splits apart like torn flesh

With warmth of the southern country’s heart intact,

Bloomed in full bloom

Scatters flower rain

On the land of suffering

And that dye it bright pink.

* The crepe myrtle, which turns Texas bright pink in the summer, is native to India. Looking at this flower, I thought about the loneliness and pains of our missionaries in a foreign land. However, because God is with us, we ultimately see the hope of grace blooming on the mission lands.