For My Guys in 1-C

I want to take you away.
I want to make it all okay.
I want your eyes to see
That's it's just as hard on me
To know you don't understand
Why I can't take you by the hand
And bring you home.
And bring you home.

You tell me desperately
How you are longing to be free
To breathe the sweet country air,
Feel ocean breezes through your hair,
Eat corn and biscuits on the farm,
Embrace the city and its charm.
Oh, bring me home!
Please, bring me home!

I ask my God if He is there.
Does he listen? Does He care?
Does He know the pain we're in
Watching death, by inches, win?
I ask Him how can this be
That men who gave so selflessly,
So far from home,
Now can't go home.

Still no answer from the Source.
But I must pray and stay the course:
I'll show you honor, give you love
While all the while implore above:
Dear God, please something more than this
Earthly sadness, dark abyss--
Your heavenly home,
God's heavenly home.

Martha Olivier
August 24, 2005