The widow at Nain (Luke 7:11-17)
My eyes are red with weeping.
My glorious, beautiful son,
My only hope,
Is gone,
Passed to a place
I cannot reach him.
My future lost.
Where are you God?
I put my trust in you.
No comfort from my friends
Weeping with me
As I make my lonely journey
To his resting place.
My eyes are red with weeping.
Joyous, exuberant tears
As we dance together
Making our way back home.
My son reborn
And with him
All my future.
Where were you God?
You were here.
By Jeannie Kendall