by J. Randal Matheny © 2014

The Word creates a world, a people,
A place of peace, a pleasant meadow,
Where the Speaker resides, the space of life,
The wider joy, free wind of Spirit,
Where light appears, and labor ceases.

Here, severed body and soul rejoin,
The powerful sword appointed to reign,
Where the nations’ wealth nourishes the wanting,
A throne of kings for throngs of servants,
Their trek concluded at the tree of God.

In the midst of saints, this minor, last
Of all the least, an arch-sinner he,
Like Saul redeemed, saved from wretchedness,
Rejoices, glad to join their ranks —
A peal of praise repeated endlessly.

What do you think?

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