Just thinking about Ukrainian kids with family contacts written on their bodies, a war possibly inching west with me riding in my car listening to a news report worrying about the price of gas. Are we missing something here?
HOW PRECIOUS IS THIS LIFE
if war was on my doorstep now
as bombs dropped from the sky
how brave then would I really be
with bullets flying by
how as a nation would we fair
with conflict here so strong
would it be as the Ukraine
together pressing on
their children know the truth of war
cast down a Ukraine trench
for they have seen the horrid piles
of overcrowded death
and mothers too who realize
their ill fate may be cast. insure these wards find family
inscribe their tender backs
but some of these will be no more
to wake a brighter day
one blast wipes generations out
that warlocks have erased
we worry more bout traffic here
then trafficking to grieve
and tend toward what’s in front of us
then legacy we’ll leave
I pray a prayer for peaceful ends
and hold this hope in mind
that through our day
a deeper look
how precious is this life
A poem by Greg Nelson
© 2022 by Poppie’s Hallel
(BMI. Admin. by Amplified Administration)
The Human Wave 