• dawn138

Monday 15th March


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

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