The sun comes up each morning
He gently turns the sphere
And watches little nestlings stir
He misses nothing here
And blows upon the dewy grass
And paints with shades of light
While on the other side He brings
The soothing calm of night.
But much of night is trembling
The plagues and rampant war
The hunger, children wandering
As often-time before.
And we see scenes horrendous
Across a stunned front page
And wonder briefly, if at all
Our small part to assuage.
God acts to gain His purpose
But in the world of men
He looks for mercy's partnership
Ere dawn restores again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem