When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. (Ps. 126:1)
"God did it," we say; no other way to make sense of the gift.
Long waiting, dismay; Joy comes to stay for the tragedy missed.
All dreamers dream and know not why; reason is not sole purview.
They go beyond, with hopeful sigh; waiting is always a clue.
Of things to come, above the sky; metaphor mixing with true.
And we must join, this key to life; someday all things will be New.
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