by Ken Sehested
All of you with voices, sing out! All who lack melodic
tongue, raise the roof with joyful noise! If you have
hands, clap them. Feet, tap them. Fingers, snap them.
Let even your eyelids blink out praise to the One whose
delight drenches earth and every creature.
When you’ve had your fill of huckster dreams and foolish
schemes; when exhausted by self-help gurus and stock
market voodoos; when weight loss and hair gain on
easy monthly payments disappoint:
Come home to the One who throws a party at your
The Faithful One reclaims the breath of every death,
adopting every orphaned child. Every martyr from
every grave, every saint of every age, testify to
Harvest plans from Heaven’s bounteous stage.
Every storehouse now released, to all the lost and all the
least, every belly, every beast, bless the Name beyond
You prisoner, take flight. You blind, give way to sight.
Humiliation’s reign, now stripped of fear and fright.
Every martyr, every grave, every saint of every age,
gathers round to lend you Light through darkened
days and restless night. Come home; come home.
Ye who are weary, come home.