We Walk In The Midst

We walk in the midst of beautiful flowers

They will return again come another spring

Though winter’s breath has quietly stolen

There is promise of new birth in everything

We walk in the midst of deep and darkened days

Of some that has become each our very own

The sun will shine through and return again

There will be another break of dawn

We walk in the midst of century old lands

As old fields do through storms and question why

Beneath the blinding sun and bitter rain

We too, should draw new strength as the years pass by

We walk in the midst of grassy hills, so green

Where the mighty winds of heaven blow

Straight from the breath of God, cool and clean

As anything the soul of man can know

We walk in the midst of memories and reflections

From another place and more simpler time

Hung upon the walls of many forgotten days

Are pictures of our ancestors they left behind

We walk in the midst of much anger and hatred

A thousand words can not describe

The soul is barren without peace and love

Hatred should never be inscribed

We walk in the midst of tears and heartache

Where pain, grief and suffering has no name

Without wings against the wind we tremble

For what else may come or still remain

We walk in the midst of blurred eyes and weeping

Crying out with hunger and homelessness

In a land where milk and honey flows

There should always be plenty and never less

We walk in the midst of wars and rumors of wars

Fulfilling the Bible more each passing day

The mercy of God is the most powerful sword

If we but only turn to him and daily pray

We walk in the midst of patience, trying to understand

And wonder how good is material things of earth

When we are gone, all of these will still remain

Just as it is from birth to death, what is it’s worth

We walk in the midst of each upturned prayer

Though agony may be to great for tongue to say

Even the unvoiced prayer he surely answers

If not in our way, in some better way

We walk in the midst of a troubled and lost world

Dying more and more with each passing day

Waiting for someone to unlock the chains

That someone is here, the stone has been rolled away

© Susie Swanson, 2016