Sunday, December 29, 2013
Poem: "Tribute to Newtown" by Adam Trudel
There is a place prepared for little children,
Those we once lived for, those we deeply mourn,
Those who from play, from learning and from laughter,
Cruelly were torn.
There is a place where hands which held ours tightly
Now are released beyond all hurt and fear,
Healed by that love which also feels our sorrow
Tear after tear.
There is a place where all lost potential
Yields its full potential, finds its true intent;
Silenced no more, young voices echo freely
As they were meant.
There is a place where God will hear our questions,
Suffer our anger, share our speechless grief,
Gently repair the innocence of loving
And of belief.
Jesus, who bids us be like little children,
Shields those arms our arms are yearning to embrace.
God will ensure that all are reunited;
There is a place.