The Convention

Come join the party! What's holding you back?
Mortals and angels and even the dead.
The Fountain of Love has declared what we lack
To this generation, so often misled.

Through time we have wrestled and sullied the light,
Dire toxic perceptions concealing our way.
Let us anew build beyond depth or height
The template within which will kindle our day.

No longer with blood need we darken the sword,
Our blessings and gifts we shall freely bestow!
The Sun and the Moon have established His word
And news of relief is beginning to grow.

Return unto Him! (He'll return unto you!)
Open the storehouse to gather your yield!
A marvelous work is about to renew
For great is this moment and white is the field!

The light is obscure; nonetheless, it shall glow!
Through radiant beams, we will enter the gate.
The Lost and the Spiteful will to the world show
That even for them it is never "too late."

No more accusations, no more bitter feuds!
Let all sing along in a fulness of heart!
With blessings of Heaven and all it includes
Comes wondrous gifts which shall never depart!

The Visions have ceased but the song just begun
In this benediction I'll plead once again--
Come sing with the Father! Come sing with the Son!
Come sing with me, Family!

Amen and Amen.

The Children of the Moon

I am speaking now to You.
Yes, You know who You are.
The Looker, the Watcher, the Wonderer.
Curious at these words, like a child.
Ready to join in the chorus, but You don't know the melody.

Let me teach You a refrain:
It starts with, "I love you, no matter what,"
And, "I will not send you away!"

As the Moon reflects a greater Light,
Let us hearken to the Muse
And joyfully echo Her delightful euphony!
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Send thine hand from above;
Deliver them out of the great waters, lend a hand to the strange children;
Whose mouth has spoken vanity and falsehood, but now have repented.

I have sung a new song unto thee, O God:
Upon a psaltery and an instrument of thirteen strings have I sung praises unto thee.
It is he that giveth salvation unto kings: who delivereth his servant from the hurtful sword.

Turn away thy indignation!
Bring no more thy vengeance upon the Lost,
And remember their trespasses no more!

That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth;
That our daughters may be as corner stones,
Polished after the similitude of a palace.

Happy is that people, that is in such a case:
Yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord.
Yea, happy is that people who have built their houses upon the Rock.
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Strange as the children's ways may be
I will live thy law and follow Thee.
That the curious top may match the root
Cast not out the strange, wild fruit.