Rumours of Glory

It’s all supposed to be over I hear

But all that leads me to is fear

Sin’s been put to rest Over and done

Yet the rumours of its demise are a bit overdone

Cause for me there’s a present reality

That devastates me regularly

As I am more conformed I see

A blackened sky inside my head

Leaves me cold and oh so dead

Folly not to fear Folly not to fear

Rumors of glory draw a tear.

But It’s folly not to fear.

Don’t claim to be a Jekyll and Hyde

Cause my Jekyll’s enough for the pain and the pride

Don’t need to blame my broken bones

On anyone but me and me alone…

It doesn’t take schizoid tendencies

To account for the rumours of glory in me

But my greatest havings are my wantings

and My greatest desires are denied

But a blessed hope renews my soul

And let’s me live tho crucified

Forgiveness is sweet as grace.

And mercy has just as sweet a taste

Yeah forgiveness is just sweet as dew

The nature of the old man and the nature of the new

Between the now and the not yet.

There’s a good chance tho I’m not prone to bet

That the pie in the sky bye and by when I die or when I fly

Just ain’t the point of all this time between wherefore and why.

The tension of the tuning string

The tension of an offering

The tension of the planet’s flight

The tension of the harmonies I hear in this world’s night

This is my hypothesis

Is not just double mindedness…

There’s nothing zen about it – just as unnatural as the fall

Nothing is normal, nothing at all

So tell me how many angels are dancing now on the pin upon the wall

And read to me that writing now that looks to me like a scrawl

Measured and found wanting is as true as it can be

So tickle the parson and set me free…

My desires tend to be less than privilege demands

The not more but less of my own little plans.

Abandoned and ruined they leave me stark…

My face is pressed against the mirror that is dark.

The art of life and living rings out clear…

And its folly not to fear.

To taste with my lips is not nearly enough

Cause a parched soul needs to drown in this stuff…

Anthony Foster

July 2, 2002