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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Spiritual >> ID #1604692 |
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Faith To Move Mountains.
The early morning gentle wind Upon the fields the eye will see To dance and sing of happy days Within the summer's hour, enjoy The gladness of the farmer there, His plow tilled land on earth Fertile now, the fields of gold. Wheat the wind in morning dew Thrashed the seed lying strewn, Innocent men scattered afraid. A nation with guns to war Never count the cost of loss Torn the photo a family in tears. Proud the sons a flag to weep Their timber coffins to earth. Where O death a vision seeing God in heaven without a gun, Christ the son alive the Savor. His manger, the heavenly wheat For all men born anew. A man made cross to bear The cocoon wrapped in silk Torn in two the future now. Mary smiling, dear Lord? Rise the lost and lonely, Roll the stone away A vision seeing -- Heavens call, come in! No need the lance to pierce, His broken heart to death.
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