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From Black Forrest to Black Hills
From seaside to mountainside
On hill or dale
In heaven or hell
He can reach you
There's nowhere you can go
That he hasn't already been
Nowhere is beyond his reach
No one through whom he can't touch you
Every prostitute, each Luciferian judge
All the politicians, each little child
Everyone is in his sights
Our last move known
Traps of grace and blessing laid all around
Parades of beauty at every turn
No matter where, no matter what
I hear the birds in the prison yard
Lest we forget the pain of isolation
Look there, what do you see?
A face, eyes, a voice to greet you
And you're a weary traveler
Hot meals, and a fire
A warm bed, a good book
Wherever you lay your head
A loving God to brood over you
A not so silent Father ever present
Pine needles and blazing sun
The arms of a loved one
Permission for your next breath
He will speak to you, somehow
Whom would you rather know
Than someone so unsearchable?

Stephen Pursell, 11/12/02