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"Streams of Living Justice" a Poem by William Whitla

Let streams of living justice flow down upon the earth.

Give freedom’s light to captives; let all the poor have worth.

The Hungry’s hands are pleading; the Workers claim their rights,

The Mourners long for laughter, the Blinded seek for sight.

Make liberty a beacon, strike down the iron power.

Abolish ancient vengeance. Proclaim your people’s hour.

The dreaded disappearance of family and friend,

The torture and the silence – the fear that knows no end.

The mother with her candle, the child who holds a gun,

The old one nursing hatred – all seek release to come.

Each candle burns for freedom, each light’s a tyrant’s fall.

Each flower placed for martyrs gives tongue to silenced call.

For healing of the nations, for peace that will not end.

For love that makes us lovers, God grant us grace to mend.

Weave our varied gifts together: knit our lives as they are spun.

On your loom of life enroll us till the thread of life is run.

O great Weaver of our fabric, bind church and world in one.

Dye our texture with your radiance, light our colors with your sun.

Your city’s built for music: we are the stones you seek.

Your harmony is language. We are the words you speak.

Our faith we find in service, our hope in other’s dreams.

Our love in hand of neighbor. Our homeland brightly gleams.

Inscribe our hearts with justice, your way – the path untried:

Your truth – the heart of stranger, your life – the Crucified.


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