In God's Cleansing Flow

Have we found the measure of our love

Or have we kept it secret, sealed

As in a hidden flower grove,

Something not to be revealed.

One speaks in pain of a wounded heart

And in the flames of anguish thrown

Dismisses the thought of a new start,

Embittered, bereft, to weep alone,

Or another writes of soul-rending loss

And chooses to live in the pain-filled past

Burdened beneath his sorrow's cross

And all the suffering amassed.

A few there are who yearn for light

The inner demons would overthrow.

Withdrawn from the dark thoughts of night

Carried in God's cleansing flow.