When spinning chaos comes we hide, sigh
A wake of folded, crumpled memories left behind
In piles of mangled metal, wood, brick and mortar
Mud stained clothes and toys
Strewn photographs, trees and tears litter
Where structure stood.
When spinning chaos comes we have relief
As Grace tracks it away from our street
Sparing some of loss and lives
We emerge thankful although hurting
For those suffering and enduring
Where their lives stood.
When spinning chaos comes the King is near
Who knows our pain and dissolves our fear
With boots on the ground and knees bent true
He will rescue and heal
He will stand and be their true dwelling
A strong tower where their lives and homes stood.
justinbedingfield.com 