A Safe Space- Rewritten Hymn

These rewritten lyrics to this classic hymn filled my thoughts in the days after the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in Parkland, Florida on February 14, 2018. There were 17 fatalities. So many children (and adults) have lost their lives to senseless gun violence. If the church wants to be a prophetic voice, we must take action. As school shootings continued, these words were cemented in my mind and I had to write them down.

An open safe-space is our God,
A symbol ever changing,
Our helper God among the crowd,
Of children desperately wailing. 
They once were charged to learn,
But now they grow concerned,
Some kids are filled with hate—
They’re armed with guns and wait,
to snuff out life so precious.

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Sunday Magnolia

Sunday Magnolia is written about the great magnolia tree at the First Baptist Church in the small South Georgia town where I grew up. My friends and I would play for hours underneath her canopy, creating worlds of our own.

As children we’d play for hours
In the shade of an enormous magnolia
In the yard at First Baptist Church…

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Resurrection's Song

Resurrection’s Song is a poem more about the passing of my grandmother and the grief that ebbs and flows through the seasons, than the tree in my backyard where her wind chimes hang. I hear them outside my window now, as I type…

The cold air undressed you
Left you bare, exposed to the freezing rain and blistering wind of December
And in the distance a train whistle blows…

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Infinite Earth, What's Happening- Rewritten Hymn

Infinite Earth, what’s happening
To all your resources?
Abundant once for our use,
Now very limited.

Littered Earth, smothered by trash,
The land gasping for air,
Mountains of plastic rise from sea,
And animals despair.

Vanishing Earth, you’re melting,
Because our policy,

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Holy, Holy, Holy- Rewritten Hymn

Holy Holy Holy
REWRITTEN WORDS: Carra Greer, Rev., 2018

Holy holy holy
Lover of diversity, painting us colors— black, brown, beige, ivory.
Each of us made wholly,
Parts of your identity,
God-breathed, created equal and free. 

Holy holy holy 
Mother of humanity,
Many in our country taken from family. Separated fully—

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Georgia Gnats

In the middle of summer,
gnats danced across my eyelids,
like a marching band under Friday night lights,
disrupted only by a gust of breath,
trumpeted out of a slit in perfectly pursed lips,
scattering the cloud of almost invisible but obnoxiously present insects.

They’d quickly return,

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