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casting its shadow over the wall,
across the avenue towards the manse
the gray-stone kirk stands among the grave-stones
a tower of strength
there
waiting for our Lord's return
His own folk gather week after week
and meet with Him who is
present in His community
by His Word and by His Spirit
to renew our joyful covenant
as I wait for the service to commence
I sit in a centre pew and watch
the setting sunlight stream through the chancel window
patterning the ruby red carpet
paving the pulpit steps
I listen to the airy sounds
of the pipe organ played by loving hands
which caress the console and call forth praise
an offering to our Heavenly Father
so few folk here on a spring Sunday eve
but the Saviour is present
in His promise to bless
to give Himself to all who receive Him
in the reading and preaching of the Word
and I feel at home here with Him
in the midst of a handful of faithful folk
the vestry door opens and out strides
the black-gowned minister
who mounts the pulpit on light-paved steps
and calls the people to worship Almighty God
the organ swells and voices raise
a rousing Psalm of praise
with a volume that belies the congregations size
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