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