Oh here we are, from places 'round about
we've come together, friendship is the key.
The program's not the program we worked out
so much as what God does with you & me.
We're present here, & would be more-so too,
not just to do our own thing, but respond
to what our good creator would make new
in his good time, & still the game goes on..
So Spring is sprung; September's nearly done
the fields so often brown are green with grass,
& rain has been here falling, with bright sun,
the time has ticked on by, and come to pass!
And if we weren't so careful, lifetimes would
have come & gone, & busy-ness might win;
though meetings still occured, d'you think could
those friends miss all this friendship? - 'Zat a sin?
The children's voices call out in the night
Though now they've grown and are less childish yet,
With hearts and minds still open to the light
And friendships deepenin' for the years ahead..
We stop and sit - behold a feast prepared!
A family round the dining table, fed.
And tales are told, with lives and burdens shared
A nourishment paired with this daily bread.
And someone dies before her time has come
while trusting re-creation from the king
with resurrection force in cold that numbs
the rest of us acknowledge, and then sing.
And so begins the end that's drawing near,
or else the end of our beginning time.
The life of God's own reign starts to appear,
and though there's more to come; it is sublime.
With games together in small groups and large
we whiled away the time of life "alone";
though like he said, this new life has a "sarge"
no longer "single-cells" - "this body" 's home.
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