Far Runs the River

Far runs the river that takes her willing captives speechless

Upon all high hills their sacraments of peace

Yet past bright crimson halls and lost voices

They pour forth from veiled altars buried deep

For onward ever onward will she sweep them all away

Until the fall of every hill breaks through the bar of ages

And sets them free

Then past from floundering awhile the captives leap

They understand and let all their broken dreams

Fall through their fingers like sand

Loosed from every hold these shattered hopes then find

Their several voices

Till transformed above their selfish selves forsaken

Their sound is heard

And love’s comprehending captives

Made transparent by the stream

Speak out life’s hidden truths and voyage on