When Joy
found me,
I ran to
greet her.
When Sarah
sang for me;
I danced for
Liberty.
The sound of
Children’s
voices-
Arise to
heal our land.
For every
empty promise,
The bell of
freedom rang.
In towns and
inner city,
The crowds
of hopeful
Come.
Not in the
pretty or
The witty,
But the
Cross of God’s
Own Son.
No comments:
Post a Comment