Tuesday, November 16, 2010


(I wrote this December 13, 2005. It was my second week living in South Carolina...and what a whirlwind that all had been. But this poem came not long after my first week of serious intercession with the Cause kids and finding my voice..my true voice...in worship for the first time.)

Rushing water, coming faster
A little river growing deep
Little river, be an ocean
Made of teardrops as you weep

In the mourning, there's a sunrise
And there's fire on the waters
Burning, churning till its clear,
Stirring slowly, imperfections

Ever changing, so unknowing
What mighty wind might make it shake
Little river, be a refuge
You're much stronger than you think

Little river, be a mother
They need your touch to stay alive
The rains will come and refresh you
And the Sun is looking for a wife

When its over, little lover
He'll return you to the ground
And you will nourish all existence
The lost and dry will come around

-Amanda Harman

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