Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Pulled

We live between the worlds
pulled to daylight realities and needs
to work, to chores, to duty and
on the other hand
to starry skies shot spangled 'cross the dome of heaven
to dreams of what's to come
to joy, to song, to poetry and
they are not two worlds,
but one, beneath the hand of God.
We see so dimly
through the mist of misdirected men,
how to live as
men,
as those who eat, sleep, and breathe
as those who pray, love, and write,
we are so fixed,
so formed and fashioned,
to be at once workers and worshipers,
but this the key:
in worship, forget work,
though working, ever worship.

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