BROKEN HEARTS
With His healing hand on a broken heart,
And the other on a star,
Our wonderful God views the miles apart,
And they seem not very far.
O it makes us cry - then laugh - then sing,
Tho’ ’tis all beyond our ken;
He bindeth up wounds on that poor crushed thing,
And He makes it whole again.
Was there something shone from that healed new heart
Made the Psalmist think of stars -
That bright as the sun or the lightning’s dart,
Sped away past earthly bars?
In a low place sobbing by death’s lone cart,
Then a flight on whirlwind’s cars;
One verse is about a poor broken heart,
And the next among the stars.
There is hope and help for our signs and tears
For the wound that stings and smarts;
Our God is at home with the rolling spheres.
And at home with broken hearts.
- M. P. Ferguson -
