Two rows of men
walked the shore of the sea,
On a day when
the world’s tears would run free,
One a row of
assassins, who thought they did right,
The other of
innocents, true sons of the light,
One holding
knives in hands held high,
The other with
hands empty, defenceless and tied,
One row of slits
to conceal glaring dead eyes,
The other with
living eyes raised to the skies,
One row stood
steady, pall-bearers of death,
The other knelt
ready, welcoming heaven’s breath,
One row spewed
wretched, contemptible threats,
The other spread
God-given peace and rest.
A Question...
Who fears the
other?
The row in
orange, watching paradise open?
Or the row in
black.
Our prayers are
with all those who are being persecuted for following Christ. May we never take
our freedom to worship for granted.
