Advocate for Hymn

When I heard, Give us this day, all that you showed me
the power and the Glory, ’till Thy Kingdome comes,
I was not immediately moved with affection
or intrigue or even a modicum of aural satisfaction,
having been accustomed, in my church, to old standbys
like, On Solid Rock I Stand, and the Doxology.
On these padded pews, one should expect the blessing
that flow in the still waters of changelessness, that
staid pacific, the calm of the Creator wherein
newness not be a pushy hymn elbowing like mad tramps.
Conditions were just right--we had our Goldilocks Zone
of favorites in praise of I Am, of life in note
with no need of some melodic orphan
seeking refuge in page, hoping
for long-term housing in the heart.
Because we can slumber in what we know,
we can gravitate to hovering angels en masse
as well-known harmonies join hands, as the melodies
known by rote radiate from contented countenances
like old time religions themselves. There is then, no end
of the world, no dust to pan due to aggravation on Sunday.
Still, planets were held in their orbits, and a congregation
seemed none the worse in the presence of the novel,
and a hymn heretofore unknown was embraced.


24 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
11-26-15