Jan. 10, 2011. Inspired after reading “Christ of the Klingons” in the December issue of Christianity Today.
If we indeed are atoms on a string
on Your guitar, what sort of melody
do we mar whenever it’s our turn to sing?
Do angels cringe when they hear us so off key,
our universe vibrating out of tune?
One third loosened the knob. This notch that man
made wrecked our part in the chorus far too soon
(barely after our perfect world began).
You will keep playing till all know the sound
cannot be worked into a pretty song,
cannot forever just be played around.
Remade, our praise can never more go wrong.
No music could ever match what You’ll play then –
all strings together cry out a loud “Amen!”