Newness declares itself in broken hearts:
old ruts are vast and carry dust
yet penitence cleans fathoms deep
and always makes anew.
What yesterday made shame your song
today is fading into silence.
Listen: polyphonic hope arises,
gentle, soft, yet sure.
The old has passed, yet still can yell;
The new has come, and comes each day.
In humble ways and hopeful praise,
sing to the Lord new songs.
What have you seen of the past?
What stories do history’s pages tell?
A mute dirge perhaps, or a final bugle,
retreat sounding when battle’s about to be won?
You look only in false places;
the witness of the past tells only half-truth.
It was not there when firmaments were sealed
or covenants carved into space.
Shine light. Everything illuminated
comes to life. The dead must hide
in darkness where there is no voice.
Yet in the light a new song sings
and hails the truth that reigns…