We’re singing the song
That can’t be learned.
Its built into us
In darkness, in fire.
It’s the aching moan,
The lonely sigh,
But the chorus is a glorious
Battle-cry.
Stone by stone
Without mortar or tools
An altar is set up
That carries the tune.
It’s a song of grief
That has made us wise
And of trusting in unseen
Victories.
A chorus of hearts
Once broken, now bound
Will soar to the heights
Lifted up on wings
With strength we don’t have,
Like this world’s never seen.
For the song that we know
Tells of conquering.
(c) 2010 Tasha Chinnock