By Leah Jordan Meahl
For the dove flies on,
Leaving a trail of red below
The flag—at half-staff.
Streams of fire replace the stars,
Across the sea sees the fading glow,
For the dove flies on.
The heart strings are drawn,
As the fabric hangs low,
The flag—at half-staff.
A proud land divided,
With scars deep to show,
For the dove flies on.
Again the majestic banner descends,
With a haunting song of sorrow,
The flag—at half-staff.
Oh to ride the eagle’s wings
And follow the wind to tomorrow,
For the dove flies on.
To everything there’s a season,
Until the last trumpet blows,
For the Dove flies on
From the flag at half-staff.
2 Chronicles 7:14
