We dwell in distant countries beneath out priviledge

Prodigal

We long to fill our stomachs with savory sacriledge

Some lose their taste for fatted calves -

They’ve eaten them so many times

When they’ve returned they’ve left again

Drawn back to the swine.

Til they come back to their senses

Convicted to the bone.

Ashamed to live there anymore

Nowhere to go but home.

One brother judges harshly but he has been there too

At some point were all prodigals but at every point God’s true

#985

Anthony Foster

1-19-98