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To Rest

from Small Small Seeds by Of Asaph

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lyrics

Bring your milkjugs and tin cans filled with coins.
Bring your cowbells & claps.
Bring your stained glass and dark wide spaces with
stone & marble patterns of glowing gold.
Bring your beards & unwashed hair;
bring your wandering-in-poverty
(with gardens, and hand-made drums).

Bring your barstools and paintings, hung-over musicians
in windowless, backlit halls.
Bring your corrugated tin roofs and squeaky doors,
your vines wrapping around white crosses
as the rainforest crawls around concrete walls
with cut-out, missing glass.

Bring your Ivory robes on blackened skin,
your muffled songs & swaying organs
with gold pipes, and chipped paint on heavy doors.
Bring your snakes in baskets, your hand-on-the-forehead
screams and weeping wails of tounges
dressed in ties and slacks.
Bring your dirt floors, sweat, and bare dancing voices
echoing off thin white walls.
Bring your head-dresses & black/white starch
holding beads & string.

And our light will become a fire;
kindled like a burning flame.
And his glory will become a fire,
and his holy one a flame.

And it will burn and devour our thorns & briars
in a single day.
It will be as when a sick man wastes away.
And the rest of the trees of our forest
will be so small in number,
that a child could write them down.

credits

from Small Small Seeds, released November 5, 2010

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