Sing the penitential hymns
of modern, troubled saints
who
watch the news
with breaking hearts
and whisper their
complaints
We struggle on the narrow way
to enter
through the gate
collapsing now
and stumbling too
we cannot bear the weight.
The imprecision of the words
that lay upon our tongues
the choked off prayers
and treasured hymns
by voices no
longer sung
Oh Christ of all and lord of light
oh emperor of love
light the light and fan the flame
that will restore all things
right
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