Stained Glass

It was thirty days til Easter when the elm tree hit the church Thank God it fell on Friday cause at least no one was hurt But there was fear it might delay the second coming of the lord Cause the stained glass crucifixion was in stains upon the floor They spent a day of cleaning and a day to board the hole Where the stained glass once had cast a godly light upon the fold But come the Sunday service all the faces now were gray And they commenced to take donations as the faithful knelt to pray But on Monday they discovered that the man who'd built the glass Was the only man in town who could and sadly he had passed But his father who was ninety said the tools were in the shed And he'd kindly try and resurrect the window from the dead The congregation argued, but the wise ones all rejoiced In the one hand was solution, in the other was no choice And they gave the man their blessings and they gave his hand a shake And they gave him all the coins they had collected on their plate It was seven days til Easter and they'd seen a hide nor hair So they came and knocked at suppertime in hopes the man was there But a banging from the basement was âbout all that they could hear And curses that might make the devil blush and wash his ears Come first thing easter morning and to everyone's good grace The man was up on ladders with the window nailed in place It was covered in black velvet like a hood or like a veil He pulled the sheet and there it hung apocryphal and frail The seams had melted jagged, they were crooked like a spine The glass was rough like hands of man against the hands of time And there was bloodstains in the red and there were teardrops in the blue He said: It may not be the best but it's the best that I can do The chapel fell to silence, it was more than just surprise As the monstrosity of color slid its tongue across their eyes And they shivered from exposure like babies born again Cause in every pane of glass was all the joy and pain of man . . . There was every fearful smile, there was every joyful tear There was each and every choice that leads from every there to here There was every cosy stranger and every awkward friend And there was every perfect night that's left initials in the sand There was every day that filled so full the weeks would float away And there was all those days spent wondering what to do with all those days There was every lie that ever saved the truth from being shamed And every secret you could ever trust a friend to hide away There was the fortune of discovering a new face you might adore And the thrill of coming home to find her clothes upon the floor And the prideful immortality of children in the home That the storm can't grind the mountain down, it can only shift the stones And there was everything your mouth says that your lips don't understand And every shape inside your head you can't carve with your hands And every slice of glass revealed another slice of life Emblazened imperfections in a perfect stream of light It all flooded through the window like rapids made of fire And then God rode through on sunshine and sat down cause he was tired He was tired. As the thunder and the hardwood settled back into its place God removed his veil and there were scars across his face And some folks prayed in reverence and some folks prayed in fear As all the shades and chaos in the glass became a mirror