A Poem.

Run away, away, and long shall we run

O’er mountains, through valleys, or setting sun

And my hand, my hand, you hold it steadfast

We run away, away, far from the past.

And the snow, the snow, will cover old scars

And a cleansing grace will soften our hearts

The cold, the cold, will have taken its leave;

Oh darling, we’re free; free to believe.

We could hide, hide, under letters of prose

We could laugh till morn and crinkle our nose

We could hope, hope, in the words we’ve been told;

Or cry no, no!, and trust something more bold.

We could trust, trust, the hopes offered anew

We could discard pain and visions askew

But we will wait, wait, lest it be for naught;

Let us wait, wait, on provisions of God.

Let us heal, heal, and cling to His cross

Restoring, repaying, and mending our loss

And please stay, stay, while this beauty lasts

But run away, away, far from the past.

{EER}