The Drama of Life
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Thy loving arms, my Lord, embrace each day
The skeins of life, the jammed suburban roads
And peasant women bearing cruel loads,
Not just the rustic sons of wheat and hay;
And though no piety goes unremarked
And simple sacrifice commands Thy Grace
Rendering to Caesar has its proper place
In taxes paid and cars legally parked. -
When broken clods thud on the polished wood
Or water trickles from the baby's head,
When Vows by Priest or bride are meekly said,
With swelling hearts all that we hope is good:
But when a taunt is closest to the mark
And selfishness seems not to render harm
Our thin excuses only bring false calm
And lead us smear by smear into the dark. -
When pleas rise to Thee, father, wrapped in prayer
Borne by the intercession of Thy Son
Whose reign of hope and love has for us won
The fruits of faith autonomy must bear,
Accept our smouldering offerings to Thee
Which, sparked, add power to the Spirit's flame
To torch the tower of cant built in Thy name
Foreshadowing the heavenly light all pent in Thee.