Bright smile, loud coos
The baby babbled in his crib.
Mother with twisted brow
Only saw the right, clubbed foot.
Peaceful sheen upon her face
Daughter lay injured in bed.
Father with twisted brow
Focused on the bandaged head.
Wedded bliss of sixty years
The widow, cold in polished box.
The husband with twisted brow
Mourned his loss, nor looked ahead.
Serene amidst the smoking ruins
Her homestead smoldered, memories now.
Twin sister with twisted brow
Anguished, hopelessly in fear.
The Son crucified on man-made tree
Spoke “it is finished”-victory.
Do we look with twisted brow
Or is his peace ours to stay?
BY, JED N. SNYDER, Copyrighted.