Every spring, the vineyards cry out. A beautiful symphony known as the "weeping of the vines" It is when spring is declared and the dormancy of winter fades away. The vines have been carefully cut, pruned and shaped by the&
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Sear