A Glass of Wine
A glass of wine,
a little piano,
a bit of guitar.
Sweet strains of voice,
the simple sentiment
of a friend
pulls the desperate
out of a constant grip.
Stay strong, little one -
the Master must have a plan.
Appointed to roads
that are difficult to walk.
Paths wrought with danger
and stones set to stumble.
Be careful little feet
where you go,
for brutal callouses form
when arrogance is worn.
And we have all heard that
sin wraps tight as a garment.
Understanding is at hand,
truth now clear as crystal.
Everything is revealed in it's time,
as has been thoughtfully written.
Glass pieces fall in place,
puzzle pieces fitly together
left to shatter in cutting shards
under the deceit of good intentions.
Preservation demands a price,
my friend,
and the burden is quite heavy.
Bear up, as it seems you have no choice...
for we all live as the deceiver's quarry.
with that glass of wine
and a little piano...
Perhaps it would cost too much
to do the righteous thing.
Is there an answer
in that glass of wine,
in the sweet sounds of the guitar?
Oh, how I want there to be.
And what it is right now
is a glass of wine
and a little piano.
I will never forget so many things...
not least of which
is that oh-so-sweet guitar.
a little piano,
a bit of guitar.
Sweet strains of voice,
the simple sentiment
of a friend
pulls the desperate
out of a constant grip.
Stay strong, little one -
the Master must have a plan.
The taste on the tongue,
a whisper in the ear;
what would it take
to do the righteous thing?
To give comfort to the hurting,
to find grace and mercy
and compassion from deep within...
that are difficult to walk.
Paths wrought with danger
and stones set to stumble.
Be careful little feet
where you go,
for brutal callouses form
when arrogance is worn.
And we have all heard that
sin wraps tight as a garment.
A peek here
and a glimpse there;
and the sound of laughter
from across the room.
Last time to listen,
of that it is clear -
pain cuts like a knife
for the ear that can hear.
Understanding is at hand,
truth now clear as crystal.
Everything is revealed in it's time,
as has been thoughtfully written.
Glass pieces fall in place,
puzzle pieces fitly together
left to shatter in cutting shards
under the deceit of good intentions.
Preservation demands a price,
my friend,
and the burden is quite heavy.
Bear up, as it seems you have no choice...
for we all live as the deceiver's quarry.
A candle flickers
and peace is sought.
Ministering angels
bend close to listen
and hear the hidden tears of the chosen.
Uncork the wine and set the table,
tear the bread and share the meal...
with that glass of wine
and a little piano...
Perhaps it would cost too much
to do the righteous thing.
Is there an answer
in that glass of wine,
in the sweet sounds of the guitar?
Oh, how I want there to be.
Pray, dear one, oh do pray.
Bend the knee and wrap the tefillin,
for the Holy One sees it all,
knows it all,
owns it all.
And we wait for the promised rest -
oh yes, He will give us all rest.
On that day, there will be no more pain,
or secrets,
or grief over what was...
and is, still.
And what it is right now
is a glass of wine
and a little piano.
I will never forget so many things...
not least of which
is that oh-so-sweet guitar.
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