Twenty-nine plus One

Throughout my life, and dare I say,
Throughout the life of many people
You learn a bit, though day-by-day
That God does not need church or steeple

‘Tis us! Tis us that needs the show:
The marbled halls, the colored glass
The Doric columns, the hope of Rome;
All vying for the very last;

Now think of God: what comes to mind?
What ears grow open to the blind?

What thinks the thinker?
What thinks the youth who yearns for truth?
What thinks the aged who’s heard it all?
What think the one who doesn’t know;
Or thinks the one who knows it all?

What cries are those when justice fails?
What sorrows carry tears afar?
What whispers when no voice prevails?
What anguish wreaks from star to star?

How great are those who know their craft!
How sweet the sound of freedom’s call
How great are those with whom we’ve laughed
How great are those with whom we fall

For all of these let this be taught:
That God can use a single knot;
The slightest song, to free the world
And none beside him dare unfurl

Let this be also said (of) youth: (in)
That grace has not abandoned truth
That what you seek, in time, is found
Let sight be heard and eyes be sound
-
Tomorrow, like a cosmic clock,
I turn the page to thirty years
And none can take what God can lock:
For God has conquered all my fears