Plush Seats
Whilst the huge auditorium focused on the plushness of seat,
Lost little children were dying in a street
Far away, out of sight
Out of view of money’s might
Whilst the missionary was struggling to make ends meet
Well-dressed ushers reached out to greet
The sheep that in droves every Sunday flock
To sit in the most revered and favoured block
Whilst the children would learn under a tree
About how Jesus came to set them free
Plump bottoms sank down in luxurious rows
As the volume of the music beautifully grows
Tears streamed down the upheld face
Overwhelmed by music more than by Grace
Hands were reaching in public display
As for lost souls and countries they would all pray
Yet under their noses, under their gaze,
The lost masses and they were on two different ways
One heading down road small and craggy
With bare feet and clothing all shaggy
The others on paths creatively paved
Walking to cars, the spoils of the saved
Heading out to the broad soft highway
To the fenced safe haven where they all stay
Whilst the lost, on roads that are dusty
Exposed to the cold and winds cold and gusty
Find a gate, so incredibly small
That leads to the most wonderful hall
Filled with treasures, heaped in great masses
Filled with healers with ointment for lashes
Filled with love and Grace divine
Filled with bread and delicious wine
And looking down on the lost and weary
On their crying eyes all red and bleary
Reaching out with hand hot and dry
Praying for relief from the vast blue sky
And as the shaggy mourns for the souls that are lost
The financial committee was counting the cost
Of what was left at the end of the day
To send to the poor missionaries so far away
Very little, this month, I’m afraid to say
For the faithful to tithe we should earnestly pray!
Withholding spirit, we bind you now!
They proclaim and shout and pray and bow
Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2014
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