Wade through the rowan and the willow
and the thousand-years of stunted oak,
and there, in the heart of the deepwood,
may you find them.
Barefoot upon ancient ground.
In a small man-made clearing.
Far from the idlers and the imbeciles,
and the petrol-pump and the pylons.
Incline your aid and your ear towards them, and be rewarded.
Hear their songs of testimony, persuasion, exhortation and warning.
Joyous and luminous. Sorrowful yet glorious.
Like young Joshuas yowling at the stubborn walls of Jericho.
Soul-searching for their suppers. Sorting wheat from chaff.
Moving the air about them. Stringing daisies on a chain.
This is the music of the wagon-wheel and the whetstone.
A lily of three-part harmonies among thornbush.
Oh Precious Lord, take my hand and lead me onwards.
As it was in the beginning, so it is now.
And thus shall it ever be so.
World without end. Amen and Alleluia.
Dry The River play 'Bible Belt' for Watch Listen & Tell
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment