I listen to Your agony, O God;
I who am fed,
Who never yet went hungry for a day.
I see the dead,
The children starved for lack of bread;
I see and try to pray.
I listen to Your agony, O God;
I who am warm,
Who never yet have lacked a sheltered home.
In dull alarm,
The dispossessed of hut and farm
Aimless and transient roam.
I listen to Your agony, O God;
I who am strong,
With health and love and laughter in my soul.
I see a throng
Of stunted children reared in wrong
And yearn to make them whole.
I listen to Your agony, O God;
But know full well
That not until I share their bitter cry,
Earth’s pain and hell,
Can You within my spirit dwell
To bring Your kingdom nigh.
Georgia Harkness
