maker's touch

so bruised we break
not wanting, needing holy
healing
maker mend your millions, tiny specks on earth
faces foreign yet familiar hands lifted hearts
shifted
we need evidence of your
presence in our wicked worn world
we need fire burn the chaff of our
dark history
empty our pockets
purify us it's the only hope we have of getting
near you,
need to
fear you
make us
tremble