Jesus rises in the east
Or in the west or where its best
Or where its worst or where its first
Or where there’s people who are cursed.
He spins the worlds that heaven holds
And heals the cruelest winter colds
And tells the darkness it must hide
And says he knows that people lied
He takes the poems that have no truth
And writes them in the book of ruth
And takes the art that shouldn’t be
And makes a better mystery.
He says I know you didn’t care
Except your heart is truly there
And that is why the angels fly
In God’s own glory of the sky.
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