Psalm 1

I like writing hymns; I think I'll make a tag for it. This is based around Psalm 1; it's in 87878787, so a lot of tunes will match it.

Let an apple tree be planted
close beside a ditch of mud,
let its roots be parched and aching,
ever waiting for the flood;
let its small and bitter apples
overhang the streambed dry,
cursed to live and never flourish,
painful grow, and painful die.

Yet, this tree shall be transplanted
to a meadow by a stream;
clouds shall shower down their mercies,
sunlight throw its kindest beam;
roots recall the feel of fullness,
by the river, in the rain,
branches shall be pruned and ready,
hope and apples grow again.

Once we too were far from water,
once our branches too were cursed;
at your word we were transplanted
with your hope to fill our thirst;
with your daily word to feed us
as an anchor for our root;
with your eye upon our branches
filled with blossom, filled with fruit.

Escalator

Go on, go up towards the light,
my escalator-sharing friend,
but save the patronising glares

you throw to neighbours standing right.
We'll reach the summit in the end.
The busker plays; we're out of chairs.

And soon, and soon, comes on the night,
when none can walk, and life will tend
to turn to temporary stairs.