What they borrowed in the 60s

Mystery.
History.
Blistering words from the shepherd’s mouth
Readily inters hopes of the interested youth.
Awe-stricken
Love-driven
But tradition’s the cur crashing the wedding party
Where saints soared, and is welcome no more.

Mystery’s now history.
The altar rail? Rolled out, burnt up or trashed.
Baroque over-the-top vestments got rehashed
Into lone wolves calling the moonlit heavens
Replacing gold-adorned lions glittering in sunny havens
Flowery kaleidoscopes of holy things seeming
To tell the story of angels singing, teeming
When the banquet brought Heaven to lowly earth
And hearts bought heavily through a horrid death
Breathed in unison at the choir’s echoes. The history
Now destroyed. Gone and forgotten mystery.

Blistering words from the shepherds’ mouths
Readily inter the hope for staying true
Why? Out with the tried and true
In with the unknown untried new
The interested youth must learn something new
For saintlike worship is now stale and foul.

But the victory remains with He that wins all,
Who wrought all, Who once in death enthralled
Fought our way out. Yes!
Restoration will come and through all and in all
There will be glory, beauty, truth, and hope!
A return to the kaleidoscope of holy things teeming:
History!
Mystery!
Glory!

(c) nyonglema


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