They wonder how they’d ever make it
Caught in a clash of gunshots
These children are casualties of war
They become prisoners to this shattered shell
This fortress of falling walls
Every day they cry blistering tears
Their hopes have been wrecked by the storm
Their sad twinge and tweak of pain tells a story
A story of the sun going down
A story of voices crushed like a way-side rose
A story of chimney-pity and widow-feeling
Yes-these are their stories
Stories of bitter cold lasting sorrow
Stories of dark rainy tomorrows
As I write this poem my eyes are cloudy with tears
For I do not know where the blessed silence of this glowing city is anymore
God where is your hand?
For our song is long forgotten
And every day we yearn for noon to come
Lord! Take my life
Take my long lived life
But spare my children
For their faces glitter with innocence
And their hearts are as pure as untrammeled dew
And so, for the sake of
The orphans
The refugees
The widows
And the homeless
Every day my prayer echoes a cry:
That oh! God:
Let the graying days go
Let the melting mountains grow
Let the sundown sow
And let the morning horns blow.
In the mighty name of Jesus I pray
Amen! And let it be so
.....................
These are my little longings.
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