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Five windows light a life we feel and see:
At one, called Reverence, we stand and breathe.
Another brings us music of the spheres.
A third lends touch of rain like heaven’s tears.
A fourth is nature looking through the glass.
The last lets spirits, when they’re ready, pass.
But Man resists, for stolen joys are sweet,
and life seems incomplete when it’s complete.
A billion different faces of Earth’s God
In hunger, thirst, and nakedness abroad.
Some, prisoners. Some, strangers in strange lands.
Some, ill, unhoused. All needing mercy’s hands.
Too many facing faces turned away
To search less tender scriptures they obey.
Ask not what kind of godliness is true.
Instead to ask: what kind of face are you?