Like a bridge over flooding waters
let us all lay down,
for there are many weary, feeling lost,
and homeless folks in fear
do not want to leave
or even move,
while those in hospitals,
and nursing homes,
those on their roofs afraid
wait for the goodness of rescuers..
Like a bridge over flooded waters
even more inside
we can hear the songs …
that was the wall we painted
before the baby came…
that was the restaurant
we risked everything to start…
that was my single-wide …
the garden grandma planted for me
all washed away …
we couldn’t find the dog …
my school –
I was going to start school.
Like a bridge over flooding waters,
we would comfort them,
ease their minds,
find the lost, send the aid,
remember how the street used to be,
and stay for the re-building.
Hum the old Simon and Garfunkel,
say a prayer,
lift the fragile umbrella
that means – we will be there
even when the waters dry,
and all the fickle media has gone away.
Maren…you certainly capture the pain…God love you!
It is so very dreadful in so many very personal ways.