William H.A. Willbond MSM, CD

THE PRINCE OF PEACE WEARS A BLUE BERET
(Or God Lives In All Of Us)

I don’t know if God lives in a temple or church
in a synagogue, cathedral or mosque.
In my heart I feel – God’s existence is real
by His love for the child that is lost

Mortars rain down on village and town;
assault troops then even the score.
Not many survive – one or two are alive
those wee orphans – the children of war

Again and again brave Canadian men
gather up those who remain,
taking them to the rear away from the fear
from the death, the suffering, the pain

From a bombed out shack, it’s door burned black,
came a wailing, a loud crying sound
by a wall made of sod was a wee child of God
a miracle baby was found.

In the midst of the smoke, tough peacekeepers joke
whilst holding back tears, rage and fear.
And in the canteen, those things they have seen
are flashed back o’er pitchers of beer.

I can’t say if God lives in a temple or church
in a synagogue, cathedral or mosque, but
He lives in the foxhole, the bunker, the trench
Good Shepherd to the child that is lost.