A moment of iambic pentameter…

And wherefore do I sing my songs of praise,
as I dance with movements filled with love’s delight?
The world, turned and confused by evil’s craze,
seems caught up in the Temptor’s terrible grasp of might.
Can my song banish the wretch’d terrors of war,
or my dance heal wounds ‘tween parent and child?
Can the hopeful lifting of prayer open a door
to God’s touch – so gentle… so loving… so mild?
Or is the Adversary’s job now done,
it’s God-given tasks finished, fully complete?
Have we decided to turn from the Holy One,
never again to look even upon God’s feet?

No… for still we feel God’s shalom
shouting, crying, beckoning… calling us home.

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