Post by MIRIAM JACOB on Apr 6, 2009 1:18:45 GMT -5
A week before Good Friday
Time hangs uneasy in the trees
Yet, waking leaves, unfurling are
Writing the signature of spring.
Lord, you carry my heavy heart
Yet I, stumbling still on the broken roots
Long to sink softly into the sleep of morning grass
The velvet of Moss and the singing stream
Far from the sharp drill of duty.
So, yes I know, I know,
More than they’ll ever know-
But never enough.
Lord, may I know enough to
Weep my brother’s tears
Mourn for my sister’s sorrows.
Lord, you carry us all;
Splintered and bleeding hands still reach for us,
Not taking our pain but sharing
And turning our misted eyes to the bright edge of suffering
And, with all our heaviness- to you,
We are but a burden of Love.
© Pauline Griffiths April 2009
Time hangs uneasy in the trees
Yet, waking leaves, unfurling are
Writing the signature of spring.
Lord, you carry my heavy heart
Yet I, stumbling still on the broken roots
Long to sink softly into the sleep of morning grass
The velvet of Moss and the singing stream
Far from the sharp drill of duty.
So, yes I know, I know,
More than they’ll ever know-
But never enough.
Lord, may I know enough to
Weep my brother’s tears
Mourn for my sister’s sorrows.
Lord, you carry us all;
Splintered and bleeding hands still reach for us,
Not taking our pain but sharing
And turning our misted eyes to the bright edge of suffering
And, with all our heaviness- to you,
We are but a burden of Love.
© Pauline Griffiths April 2009