We’re walking wounded, we’re staggering from a sudden, deathly blow,
Internal bleeding, quite powerless to stem the draining flow.
You cannot see it – and from a distance you might think we look just fine;
Observe our journey, we’re walking slowly… one-step-at-a-time.
My strength is failing as rising weakness overwhelms my soul,
I wait in silence for someone who will touch me, make me whole.
The tears of sadness, the awful agony of what’s been lost,
The grief of mourning as painfully we dare to count the cost.
A world of suffering, so many others, all around us, wounded too!
We’re in a company, all stumbling blindly forward like we do.
A band of brothers and of sisters who have paid a heavy price
To shoulder, all unwillingly, the fellowship of sufferings of the Christ.
This poem was first posted on 26th April 2010 on Stories from the Street.
I am still not sure whether ‘unwillingly’ should really be ‘unwittingly’…
It seems an appropriate tribute as we come to the anniversary of 9/11.