Gathering Together



We are like unfitted puzzles

meaningless unless rearranged

by His utmost skilful hands.

When He looks the other way

we drift away

like a lost ship tossed by ocean’s waves.

Then lie in an abandoned shore

in the wasteland of time.

A simple touch by Him

unlocks a hundred year riddle

that yesterday drove many

wise men to forever fiddle.

Touch our work, touch our hands

so that sensible will be our days.

Though in a land of plenitude

deprivation seize countless household.

Awake the hearts of many lost men

that they may wake up a fresh dawn

and uncover the treasures of your teachings.

Touch our work, touch our hands

Unfolding blessings littered

on dark patches

we take for endless  ill,

and in the whimsical sunshine

let us know the gain of pain

would come in the rain.


By Victor Obiora