Surveying the broken bits
Of former glory
Remnants of Your story
Before, behind,
Sometimes we find
New roads to lay, new avenues to pave ahead
Your church,
But sometimes the work is to
Rebuild again
What once has been
The best we can do.
Building the walls,
Repairing the gate,
The mud and nail and wood and stone,
After life, while it’s late,
But maybe no one should build alone.
Yet the work spreads out in all directions,
And the workers are so few
Perhaps it’s harder to view
Broken down things
Than move on to what is new.
viewingcamelot 
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