When dawn’s ribbon of glory around the world returns
and the earth emerges from the deep—
The shadow of the dove is seen
as she flies across landscape and city.
Over the warm breast of the earth she skims,
her shadow falling on
the watcher in the tower,
the refugee in the ditch,
the weary soldier at the gate.
The shadow of peace
falls across the all-night sitting of a council,
across the tense negotiators
around a table.
The shadow of hope
is cast across the bars of a hostage cell
filling with momentary light
rooms tense with conflict,
bringing a brief respite,
a sliver of gold across the dark.
She flies untiring
across flooded fields,
across a nation divided by hate and fear,
across a city wreathed in smoke.
The shadow of reconciliation,
the dove of peace
with healing in her wings,
is felt and seen and turned towards
as she makes righteousness shine
like the dawn,
the justice of her cause
like the noonday sun.
Holy Spirit of love,
bring healing, bring peace.