Who listens to the mothers weeping
and measures the river of their tears?
Who counts the footsteps of the refugees
and hallows a sanctuary in the wilderness?
Who weighs the burdens atop the distressed
and lends a holy hand to help bear the load?
Who paces the days like the caged circus lion
and longs to leap with the power of justice?
Who calculates the time of our mere flesh
yet fails to gauge the flow of holy grace?
Who but the One whose own tears
are the earth’s very oceans;
whose steps make the ground sacred; whose
scars are the jealousies of Cain against Abel;
yet whose love goes willfully unmeasured?
Who indeed, but the LORD God alone?