Trails of them
Tears run
Flowing unchecked down well-worn furrows
Staining the strongest
Bringing lower the lowest
Mothers, daughters, fathers and sons
Great rivers of sorrow
No escape from the darkness
Alone in the suffering
Does anyone see?
Does anyone care?
Hands folded, knees bowed low
Oh God rescue us, rescue us…
An unexpected hand, an embrace
A cup of water, a plate of food
No longer alone
Sorrows gently wiped way
You saw us and you cared
You came
Today, God made us laugh.
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But what about tomorrow?
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The voices of thousands remain unheard as this world spins in angst and anger. This piece came to me today as I began to prepare for a food distribution to 200 families of widows, elderly and vulnerable in Burundi. Through all the noise that is being fed to us, take a moment to look around where you are to listen for those whose tears flow unchecked along well-worn furrows.
