A messenger laid facedown in a canal. Our parched mouths gave restoration, read his letter and it rescued us. (It said) “You razed that city to the ground, but I raised the dead! Your father has redemption, new lungs, and bones to hold him up. There’s far too much triumph in your planting. There’s far too much speaking in your love. The masses have found the flowing river, and they’re welcoming the flood. And this water is fire to the most precious gold, to purify and scrape off the imperfections before it’s sold. With praises, hymns, and songs, the oppressed will raise their city made of psalms. The orphaned play their horns, wave palms. The imprisoned have their freedom that is love, love, love, love, LOVE! For love bears all things, hopes all things, believes all things, love endures all things!”
