In colored glass the prisons
In windows on the wall
Saints look uo to heaven
Jesus looks so tall
Piercing eyes look into hearts
Convicting, calling... all.
Weeping through the window
Shifting up the wall
The sun approaches painted hills
Sun setting leaves a pall.

All the congregation
Modern in the light
They follow "the Savior"
Thinking they're "upright"

Position, proposition,
Privilege in their pores
Matriarchs & patriarchs
Always wanting more.

The Saviour dies a pauper
Assigned to pour red gusts
Put in a rich man's private tomb
To turn to maroon dust

Now, O, hail the Pastor!
His preaching & his price!
He gathers up the windblown tithes
To practice every vice....
He's the one they come to
To give His Glorious advice?

The Mesusa in Their membranes
Giving Themselves airs
They turn us all to colored glass
Snakes writhe in Their hair
But batten down the Bible
WE AREN'T THAT UNAWARE.

The Saints look up so pious
Jesus scans the pews
He sees ALL the "Pastors"
He sees me & you
He's looks down so sadly

As the light weeps through.

SoulSurvivor

we're all heros
      groveling in the dirt

   for masterpieces of

          barbed wire
wrought
                           lead and red glass
             comin' out

                     lookin' like a rose

          black & blue BEAUTIFUL.

^¡^

Color me be a cymbal
Let me be a gong
Color me Coyote brown
Let me limp along
Color up my faltering voice
Let it come out wrong
Color me a blackbird
A deep & moody song.

Color me a minstrel
Let me be a knave
Color me a sinner
Who is yet unsaved
Color me a'weeping
Let tears come in waves
Color me a raven
Perched above a grave.

Color me a cloudy day
Color me the rain
Color me a carousel
That ol' circle game
Let me be a priest of straw
Let me see bloodstains
On songwritten pages
On my Christian name.

Color me a kite in flight!
Color up the strings!
Color me an angel
A rusty golden thing!
Color me a blackbird
Cuz, man, those birds can SING!!
Yes, even a blackbird has
Red & yellow on its wings...

^¡^

by Catherine Jarvis
Dedicated to Joni Mitchell.

<@ <@ <@

whispering shells
announce God's presence
more clearly than
any trumpet

[10W]
Catherine Jarvis

the wind.through
a weathered stone
cries then whispers

alone.

[10W]
Catherine Jarvis