JUNE 09, 2015 by Stephen McLaren
Healing of communities

There’s a narrow strip of birch wood by a busy railway track
Where the blackbirds sing superbly as the trains rush where and back
So I wander in the birch wood with the burdens of the day
‘Til my peace of mind takes over and all burdens slip away.

There’s a glory in that birch wood, seldom seen and seldom known
To the folk who trundle to and fro, for things they’ll seldom own
It’s the glory of the sunshine and the glory of the rain
The healing of the scars of life, the easing of one's pain.

Tho’ it’s not the birch wood heals us, nor the sunshine, nor the rain
Nor the blackbirds singing blithely, nor the rushing of the train
But the healing of community when wounds are deep and sore
And the human hand of friendship and the warmth of love once more.

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