Stacking up the heavy blocks,
Not high lest topple and come crashing,
Not low lest filling up each inch of space,
A heave and there just squaring up,
The stack ascends one block upon each block.

A barking dog punctuates the evening,
Textured chords on the flat darkness,
I saw the celestial assembly singing,
In silent praise they hummed last night,
Perhaps I'll see them bright again,
To what's ugly and begrimed lambasting,
To what's true and wholesome testifying,
Lord lift my mind to these heights of glory,
To see you there and return praising.