Hands
Footprints in the mud. I count them, one-by-one,
As little hands grasp my very own.
Eyes as bright as stars, haunted by their scars.
I see their gazes and I am undone.
Precious little lambs with tiny, fragile hands.
Forgotten, their voices go unheard.
Hungry with each day, their futures gone astray,
And yet, we still have never learned.
My dreams broken at night by the silence of their cries.
If they are thirsty, then so am I.
Together, let us speak out for the rights they seek.
Hand in hand, we can be a light.
Emily, did you know that in this post, and the one from two years ago, you were answering the question I asked in a comment to your previous post?
ReplyDeleteEmily, two years ago, you wrote:
ReplyDelete"I hope that someday, something I write will impact someone for the Lord."
My heart is bursting with the impact your writing has had on me.
I'm so glad to see that my words were able to impact you in any way!
ReplyDeleteThe Lord has definitely been working in wonderful ways over the last few years.