Wednesday, August 15, 2018

How long, O Lord?

Dark waves turn all to waste
As they have done before;
Despair leaves a thick taste
And pain is at the door.

Injustice slinks around
And snatches here and there:
A paw-print on the ground,
A cold stench in the air.

No matter what we try,
A sense of helplessness;
With no tears left to cry,
For tears are powerless.

Can prayers reach past the clouds,
The skies that hem us in?
Our words fold in like shrouds,
Our breath begins to spin …

A world of futile pain,
A heartless, bitter place
Where loss comes after gain
And laughter seems misplaced.

Yet, patient on his throne
The King of Heaven waits
Still caring for his own
Still bringing in his saints.

Still waiting through the night
Until the stars shall flee:
The coming of the light,
His bright eternity.

And, till that day shall rise
When justice is complete,
Birds still sing in the skies,
Grass still grows round our feet.

And grace, his precious grace,
Through every rainbow glows;
And there is still a place
Where mercy ever flows.

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