Sunday, January 11, 2015

This Land

This Land, a thousand hills
A thousand hidden hurts
A thousand sudden smiles
A thousand gentle sighs
Oh, a thousand hidden cries! 

This Land my heart
This Land my home 
Blood soaked earth 
Never to forget
Once again, met.  

Blood spilled, oh this Land by One…
Knowing each curvature
Each address, each mudugudu
Each sheet-metaled heart
Each yearning, home.

Emblazoned on my bosom
Rwanda, rises, Fire-Lily-stretching 
Forged in ruinous burn
Upwards meeting
Son’s sweet, bloom.

Oh hills, we pray your peace.
We bless your roots.
We admonish your guardians.
We sanctify your dreams.
We ache, your pathos.

Today mind and heart,
We live your story tell.
Friend closer brother
Yours we always are  
A thousands hills not beyond
This Land blessed, not gone. 

1 comment:

Jean McAllister said...

Powerful and moving poem, Bob, clearly from your heart and the heart of our Lord. thank you!