Heal my wounds, O Lord, And pour Your balm upon them. My hair has turned to gray, The breath was knocked from me…
Heal what time has scorched, What people have broken down, What fell not as good seed And stole away pieces of love.
Let my spirit never shatter, Your balm will grant me peace. Whoever forgives is greatly forgiven On Earth. Upon the journey home…
The gift to forgive—the hardest task, Pain from wounds and shards still throbs… Only the Creator's wondrous consolation Heals both without and deep within!
Heal my wounds, O Lord, And pour Your balm upon them… In my city autumn scents the air, And mist clings to empty alleys.
