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Mar 16, 2009
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Sunday ~ In three parts
1
Sunday morning
and i have no one to pray to
it's lonely in the light,
O sweet sweet
sunrise melody
of birdsong
you drift into my awareness.
2.
church bells ring
an invitation
to empty our begging bowl
3.
the congregation gathers,
plummage preening
a Sunday soul,
words recited
hymns sung,
yesterday's
confessions heard
and forgiveness granted,
in the name of God
it's the way the week begins
for Christians...
Muslims and Jews have their own
day of atonement,
to remember words are like flowers,
growing like weeds
and bees carry a nectar
that is love from flower to flower.
Sunday morning
and i have no one to pray to
it's lonely in the light,
O sweet sweet
sunrise melody
of birdsong
you drift into my awareness.
2.
church bells ring
an invitation
to empty our begging bowl
3.
the congregation gathers,
plummage preening
a Sunday soul,
words recited
hymns sung,
yesterday's
confessions heard
and forgiveness granted,
in the name of God
it's the way the week begins
for Christians...
Muslims and Jews have their own
day of atonement,
to remember words are like flowers,
growing like weeds
and bees carry a nectar
that is love from flower to flower.
— Kailashana, Mar 16, 2009
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Critiques
Cloudthings
17 years 2 months ago
..."he's not the kind you have to wind up on Sunday"