Vol. 1 ·No. 23 · August 2, 1999
The Church
Poem
New experience
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The Church Waving and reaching the evergreen saluted his Creator as the crash occurred. Immovable, he was, that hill of stone yet to be hewn as the hammer fell. From the very depths he did not appear so bright the gypsum burst forth. From incessant pounding winced the molten slabs cool nails in boxes. Moving, travelling, arriving, assembling, God makes a church. © 1999 by Dr. Richard C. Gamble