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.
Me, too. And I love “friend-draped worshippers.”
I love these prepositions…