Return

Like any other day, the sun beat down on our heads
Gathering as much food as we could, knowing half would go away

Our older bodies could barely keep up, and our small harvest showed it
Then we heard the sound of drums
The captain of our oppressors draws near
We scrambled in a hurry to carry our baskets from the fields
And take them to the storehouse before going to the square
We bowed low on the street, bitter, with hate for the man behind the gate

As it opened, the captain strut in
And behind him was a face we'd hoped to never see
The stranger from the western lands, but before we could act
The captain ordered his carts into the square

And from them several youths leapt out, running to our prostrate selves
The captain said, "Rise!"
And we looked up at the faces of our children
Whom they'd taken just months ago

How has this happened?
Why return your spoils to this village?

He answered us, "It was this western man
He spoke to us the gospel of peace
That God can forgive sins by the payment of His Son, the Christ
And that we, who have attacked this village, can do what's right
To return these people and restore your might
Here I praise the God who sets the captive free
I give you what I can return and laborers, food, and riches."

Without delay, several men pushed past our ranks
Taking the empty baskets off our backs
Others emptied their carts of lumber
To rebuild what had been burned

We could say nothing
We shook where we stood and wept

Bless the God who restores and sets the captive free
By the gift of His Son, we can have peace