Amid the Noise of Rumbling Skies
Amid the noise of rumbling skies,
and dreams crumbling before my eyes,
as sweet and soft as spring's own song,
I heard an angel's voice mid the cries.
There midst the blackened smoke arose,
a shaft of light, cross like, it glowed,
and then as gentle as spring rain,
I felt my Lord's tears as they flowed.
Then mid the rush of chaos and alarm,
and the cries of those whom evil harmed,
in a hush, I heard the promise of spring,
as He lifted me up safe in His arms.
copyright 2001 Roland Ricker
written on October 12, 2001 on my mother's
centennial ,
this poem is dedicated to those fallen heroes
and their brave chaplain, Father Mychal Judge |
