A woman attacked alone in the dark,
A robber assails with knife and the shock.
The fear that leaped up to devour and consume,
now feeds in a frenzy in a heart torn by gloom.
She sits and is broken – her face stitched and torn.
Her heart is so empty – she sits all alone,
The health care is broken, her tendons are cut.
She needs hearts that bear life and help her to trust.
Grace is so so willing to reach and to weep.
It takes just one action so eyes can light up.
A presence envelopes as a hand reaches out.
A heart that is gentle, stills death’s hateful shout.
Moments are precious, when fear meets with love,
it’s gentle yet present, and halts frenzy’s shove.
When Spirit caresses and pours helping balm,
on wounds that are ragged and torn by much harm.
Hope is the answer! It rises above.
It infiltrates slowly, and awakens the dove.
The battle is fiercest when fear has to flee.
Yet when it is vanquished, hope’s grace sings to me.
Author – Bill Tidsbury