When Maribel Runs
10 o'clock on a Sunday morning,
Dishes done and the paper's read
Church bells pealing out its final warning,
They make it to the pew by a slender thread
When half a mile away on a dirt road
Sure her paces lure the leaves right off the trees
And the wings upon her footsteps make a breeze blow
For the workers as they're bringing in the sheaves
A million miles away the clouds are parted
God looks down for a spell or two
The church choir's got a brand new alleluia
He knows he should listen but it's so hard to
When half a mile away on a dirt road
She is coaxing half of heaven from the sky
For a hundred smitten angels line her pathway
Just to feel the whirling wind as she goes by
How the rushes quake in her dusty wake
It is she who charms up the sun
With her radiant face
And her Gabriel's pace
Such amazing grace
When Maribel runs.
Meanwhile a sermon rages onward
How they've failed at the Lord's commands
Caught in the fire, caught in the brimstone,
Sinners all caught in his angry hands,
When half a mile away on a dirt road,
Heaven sighs as she emerges from the mist,
And God says,
"If I'm a million, look at me, all carrying on,
And she doesn't even know that I exist.
I give them willow trees
Green-gilded canopies
They build their stone walls and hide
Paradise here in forget-me-not fields
But they dig their graves
And they crawl inside
When half a mile away on a dirt road
There is prayer there is my will being done
Oh her radiant face and her
Gabriel's pace such amazing grace
When Maribel runs.
~~ Deirdre Flint ~~
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