This is a revision of the song I posted above, with a new verse and new first chorus. The song/poem, as a reaction to the events of the past 10 days, is evolving.

When I Can See Through These Tears. (Jeanene Pratt © 2001)

We were travelling through a garden, rich beyond compare--
Some called it the promised land and wanted to stay there.
But the garden with its bounty was not shared alike by all
And among us there were many who heard tomorrow's call.

Yes, many there among us envisioned what could be,
And they said, "Let's push onward till the world can all agree
That till everyone can share it, there is no promised land
And freedom's just an empty word till tyranny is banned."

"Sisters, brothers, keep your eyes on the prize.
We need to go on, though there be dust in our eyes.
Though the journey before us may take many years,
Before us lies the promised land worth all our toil and tears."


We were well on our journey to the promised land,
When we were vilely ambushed by an unseen outlaw band.
Somehow I survived it, but so many fell that day,
Many sisters, many brothers perished in the fray.

We were terrorized and beaten, left there for dead;
And my vision was blurred; I couldn't see the road ahead.
I could tell it was a crossroads; beyond that it was not clear.
I couldn't find my direction through the smoke and my tears.

How can I keep my eyes on the prize?
How can I go on with these tears in my eyes?
When I can feel more than this hate, will my vision be clear
When I can reach beyond my rage, When I Can See Through These Tears?

This grief and rage could drive me onward faster than the wind
But with no sense of direction where would I begin?
Each path that I might travel holds perils of its own
And my zeal could be my downfall if I take the wrong way home.

How can I keep my eyes on the prize?
How can I go on with these tears in my eyes?
When I can feel more than this hate, will my vision be clear
When I can reach beyond my rage, When I Can See Through These Tears?

I'm still weeping for my countrymen, for those who have been lost.
And my passion drives me onward--who cares about the cost?
Yet I have to get my bearings, I must regain my sight
Lest I plow ahead blindly and be lost without the light.

I know I must keep my eyes on the prize.
It's hard to go on with these tears in my eyes.
When I can feel more than this hate, My path will be more clear
When I can reach beyond my rage,
When I can see through these tears,

JeanenePratt@onebox.com