Church

Let me never ask, when leaving church
"What did I get from the service today?"

Rather let me hear
As I rise from the benediction
The voice of the Lord saying,
"What did I get from their service for Me today?"

Text and Context

A tribute to John K. Lewis and Marcella Lydia Emerson Lewis.
by James W. Gustafson 1982

Two oaks upon a ridge top stood.
They grew not high, but knurled and wind-bent-
Wedded to the rocky spine beneath.
They put forth leaves to shade
The seedlings sprouting from their fruit.
As years wore on, their roots
Took hold in every niche,
To stand against the gales of seasons yet to come.

But now the leaves are dropping.
A limb is weak with age.
The heartwood holds, though not without a tremor.

A Carpenter will take these oaks
And fashion them with Master strokes
Into His living house above.
And carve upon their faces,
"Love."

So stands among us yet these stunted oaks,
Still smiling through the storms, still cracking jokes.
And who may be this lady and her "fella?"
Their names, of course, are Lewis: Jack, Marcella.

Henceforth a tribute to this noble pair,
Standing firm and proud through foul and fair,
Who always seem, no matter what, to hack it--
This one that he calls "Mother," she him "Jacket."

It Ain't Cricket

It Ain't Cricket
Here in the land of India
'Neath Himalyas' depthless snow
I listen to the cricketers
Upon the pitch below.

Blue is dueling Red now,
And many a fevered shout
Rises to the heavens
As batsmen show their clout.

The bowler's run - a mighty pitch
Bites dust near wickets three.
The dusky air doth tremble
As the batsman swings with glee.

High in the air he slices it,
An eliptic gliding arc.
A thousand eyes now track it
As it races from the park.

But what it is they cheer about
And why they're glad or glum
Is frankly quite beyond me
For I'm a baseball bum.