When your spirit is bottled tight,
And the world has closed around you,
That’s when the glimmer of hope
Seems so distant and so weak.
That’s when we wind ourselves like a spring,
Ready to release;
Waiting for salvation,
Waiting, waiting, waiting, … all stopped.
And we ache with that horrid tension,
Our spirit burns and smolders;
Seething at a world that would
put us through such dread.
But the glimmer of hope
Will not go away;
A breath of fresh air,
It invades our closed up world.
And now the instant arrives,
When the cork is wrenched away;
And our spirit surges forth,
With its jubilant, exultant cry!
We burst into the open world,
And seize the moment of our triumph;
Breathing deep yet breathless,
Beholding our brilliant, radiant dawn.