Beware the baseless pitch of Dream Cantors

Masters of fiction

And imperfection

Whose fruit is sweet

And roots drive deep

Into wispy clouds of barren pastures

Creeping vines of distraction

That blanket trees

And pretend to please

Through empty offering

And frivolous coffering

Fruits devoid of satisfaction

The half-truths of callous pols

That sell us land

Of softened sand

To build our homes

With honeycombs

And laugh when our castles fall.

The purveyor of truth, love and grace

Freely offers a place to dwell

No clouds or sand to sell

A home for us upon the rock

Built of stone and precious stock

A home that storms cannot displace

Trust the truth that makes us whole

Trust with roots interred so deep

Truth to make us all complete

Expel the clouds and formless dreams

Destroy the vines, reveal the schemes

And give new life to challenged Souls

Jesus heals our broken hearts

He gave his life for every soul

Rose again to make us whole

Revealed a world that was meant to be

For that He suffered on a tree

And through His roots God’s grace imparts

Newness