Scrapes and bruises bandaged,
they sit waiting as the water rises.
Underground, the air grows thin;
eyes are clouded but joy resounds.
Eight boys brought to safety, leaving
four more and the coach. Soccer
never taught such faith.

Few things in history
have so united the world, bridging
politics, religion, race and all
the petty differences. We are
as one — waiting, hoping,
bound and bruised, kneeling
in shared prayer.



6 thoughts on “Waiting

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