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Rain On My Wounds
Over land and sea we are scattered
Children in bondage to a quest
Spread around this world, battered
Warriors who search to be the best
Talking of mastery of their lands
With borders drawn, their swords aflame
A war is waged, skin color rages
Fields of dead lie in loving god's name
Touch me, sky, rain on my wounds
We'll be marching homeward soon
Touch me, wind, and blow me home
I'll never fight again
I wish that god had said a name
That everyone could use to call
The sun to shine upon their field
A name to cause the rain to fall
If he could speak his mind to us
Our swords would be ever sheathed
And children would play on the battlefield
And wives would never grieve
Matt, all I can say is wow! I love this poem. I've read a few of your works but this one is by far the best. I will read more.
If the writer can touch my soul I must tell them so. Matt, you touch my soul. Keep up the writng. It's God's gift to you.