This may be proof that I am no poet but sometimes they're the only words:
Something beautiful is bubbling beneath...
beneath the struggles and beneath the sorrow...
We are together, sharing, and showing...
all our pain, our hope is growing
to swim beneath our pain and grief
hand in hand in grace belief
We sink below in darkest sorrow
into the hallow and holy tomorrow
but not alone, not alone.
In all the darkness we see the face
of brother, sister, warm embrace.
The hand is cold but warms my chill
I do not need to understand its will...
The bloody cross is dark and hallow
but victory is bound to follow.
We walk together--not alone, not alone-- in painful bliss
where cross and resurrection are made to kiss.