Image from BBC News
He Was Holding Me
(How can any of us even begin to imagine the agony?)
This grew in my mind, in the night, after seeing the despair of a woman returning to the rubble that had been her home in Gaza City.
He was holding me.
He was holding me.
And the bullet came from nowhere.
And his beautiful, beautiful body
convulsed and collapsed around me.
He was holding me.
He was holding me.
He was holding me.
by Trevor Thorn and, I believe, inspired by The Holy Spirit.