When life’s rhythms are ruled by keys and locks,
in rooms with bars over every window,
your food your privacy held by clocks;
feeling/waiting for the world’s biggest blow:
Then the prospect of a chapel – barless,
with many spoons of sugar and coffee,
presents a place to forget all the mess,
and reflect on where the future will be.
Then with much hope a seed we try to plant,
in hearts of men who want just one more chance,
their family outside some long to rant,
while others need more than one look one glance.
So we gather to read the Psalms of old,
about God who states we’re worth more than gold.