Life with added steps,
Added fabric, a healthy dose of rope,
Unpack and pack as if in reps,
Rather just to find a little soap.

A content smile as icing on the cake,
A victory dug out for their sake,
Dripping now and beaming through,
The trophy won for many by a few.

Praise the Lord who meets us in the little gathering,
That quiet humble place that drips with earnestness,
The stumbled talk wrapped up in eager adoration,
He upholds the prayer of righteous men as mighty,
He extended the reach of weak and meager hands.

Sending now a heart to go,
Perhaps in the future vaguely,
To the peoples far and low,
Upon the foreign mountains lofty,
I'll join them in pursuit of heaven,
Its Kingdom drawn down from the sky,
But not by power or by might.

An image of His passion,
In the sublimating day,
That buzzes now with every pulse
Of sunlight scattered on the grass,
That rises in its purest dance,
That grows along the ordained rails,
That follows rising flowers in the wind,
That kiss sun and wither in the wake.

Back to a bed,
A bed that shall not squeak,
Shan't ripple with a lean,
But will hold me firmly on the springs,
The grass is gone the fields behind,
Deep mornings left to dawn without
My shadow on the dew-slick plane.