allow my hands Lord to feel new life
under the rubble of death and destruction
let my fingers feel a faint pulse of hope
my ears hear a faint whisp of breath
my eyes see a flickering flame
let my soul finds its feet
and my spirit its rhythm
to dance once more with You
2 comments:
This reminds me of the prophet Jeremiah as he stands on a hill looking upon Jerusalem laid waste and is still able to write:
Your tender mercies are new every morning.
This tells me there is always hope. What a wonderful blog.
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