Let Go the Missionary, Enchant our Explorer

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Enchant our Explorer, past Missioner’s zeal.
missionary, missionary go away’ing,
past saving unsaved, with know-it-all’s seal
Explorer chants, ‘the trees are gently swaying.’

It began back in Cradle Roll, our Docent is saying,
Sabbath school ditties, enrolled to congeal
this fifty year effort, a redemptive surveying.
Enchant our Explorer, past Missioner’s zeal.

Review the book of Diety’s tales, a few to repeal,
some to revise, many worth saving.
This way or the highway, refuses to heal.
Missionary, missionary go away’ing,

from the seventh-day’s song, this soul-bit’s a-straying,
past Redeemers’ redeemed, and pots of lucked meal,
questing hi-wi-fi, some method of show-weighing
past saving unsaved, with know-it-all’s seal.

Connection’s been made, let nothing conceal
lengths of new rhythms, intended for playing
Soul-knitting spells, on multi-versed wheels.
Explorer chants, ‘the trees are gently swaying.’

Show forth our word-spell, this way of portraying
Highest Soul’s presence, sans harmful spiel.
Our Docent gestures, to trees and their swaying
Invoke this motional spell, with word’s ideal.
Enchant our Explorer.

© Lori Fleming, 2014

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