Who are we that we should weave the wonder of paint, music, ink?
While others suffer pain and grieve for those who pass beyond Time’s brink
We tremble with the want of wishing ink could write their
hurt away
But words are all we have to offer mingling with the thoughts
we pray
Who are we, to strike the timbrel while another smites his
breast
To the bugle-call of Taps before his precious child is laid
rest?
We too are warriors bearing sorrows, some in flesh and some
in heart
Bleeding ink and song and picture as we strive to do our
part
We may not unbind the burden but beneath our bleeding
thought
We beg God to heal the broken and to bless our humble jot
God is love; in spite of Eden’s aftermath He does not fail
As He pours grace and forgiveness from hope’s full and
faithful grail
Who are we; but wounded warriors limping with our fellowmen
As we seek to cheer and comfort with whispers from brush and
pen
© Janet Martin
When I think of the grief and suffering around me it's hard to write and I've heard others who write and sing/compose, paint, say the same thing but we press on trying to serve, trusting God to heal! As we breathe the prayers in our hearts into song, poetry, painting we trust God to add the beauty!
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!