The world of men is full of accusers,
Innocent as doves in their own eyes.
Only the sinner finds a place at Your table,
Garbed, no longer in rotting rags,
But in wedding dress and festive best.
The lowly come
And are welcomed.
Choosing a place at Your feet
You invite “Come up higher”.
At Your breast the disciple rests.
Hearts make merry,
While the wine of wisdom
Turns sorrow into joy,
Allowing the cross no less,
Sweet cause of happiness.
©2013 Joann Nelander