Hymn of Promise

1 In the bulb there is a flow­er; in the seed, an ap­ple tree; in coc­oons, a hid­den pro­mise: butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of win­ter there’s a spring that waits to be, unrevealed un­til its sea­son,
something God alone can see.

2 There’s a song in ev­ery si­lence, seeking word and me­lo­dy; there’s a dawn in ev­ery dark­ness,
bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the fu­ture; what it holds, a mys­te­ry, unrevealed un­til its sea­son,
something God alone can see.

3 In our end is our be­gin­ning; in our time,
in­fi­ni­ty; in our doubt there is be­liev­ing; in our life, eter­ni­ty,
In our death, a re­sur­rec­tion; at the last, a
vic­to­ry, unrevealed un­til its sea­son, something God alone can see.