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"Prince of Peace"
It's Not Too Late
Perhaps I wanted to catch it perhaps not
But one morning an eagle dropped a diamond
And right then with my faulty brush full of my own hair I wanted to paint
I wanted to paint the wings- Too late - they flew away I wanted to paint a flower Too late - it withered
That night the rain was running after me Each drop of rain showed God's face His face was everywhere On homes and on me
I wrung out the love to make the red
I wrung out the stumps to make the brown
I wrung out the trust to make the pink
I wrung out my own eyes to make the blue
I wrung out the seaweed to make the green
I wrung out the nightly pain to make the black
I wrung out my grandmother's hair to make the gray
I wrung out my visions to make the violet
I wrung out the truth to make the white
Today I want to paint God's face
IT'S NOT TOO LATE !
Akiane
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