Overcome by the quaking 
power of God’s sweet presence
Around the shoulders of 
friend-draped worshippers
Across the room to the children raising, 
praising, lifting small hands
Surrounded by incarnations of God 
in these multi-colored people
Next to sweet-voiced sisters 
and deep-throated men,
I’m looking~~eyes up and over
and through the windows, 
past the summer-waving trees
to a lidless blue sky
where my soul 
longs for home
and I sing
while I can
’til He comes
for me.

 

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