Samaritan

Kumbaya

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          It’s been a few days of mildly unsettling dreams, devoid of a clear message. Confusion, mistakes, irrationality. I seem to be making a mess of things. But something’s missing. It doesn’t seem to herald caution. I don’t get a sense of a warning. The dreams continue. Day after day, yet, strangely, emptied of meaning. I finally turn to St Joseph. What do they mean?

          Immediately, I hear the strains of this old hymn ~

Kumbaya   ~   Come By Here

Kumbaya, my Lord, Kumbaya

Kumbaya, my Lord, Kumbaya

Kumbaya, my Lord, Kumbaya

Oh, Lord, Kumbaya.

 

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Someone’s cryin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s cryin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s cryin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Oh, Lord, Kumbaya.

 

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Someone’s prayin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s prayin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s prayin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Oh, Lord, Kumbaya.

 

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Someone’s singin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s singin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s singin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Oh, Lord, Kumbaya.

 

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Someone’s sleepin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s sleepin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Someone’s sleepin’ my Lord, Kumbaya

Oh, Lord, Kumbaya.

 

Kumbaya, my Lord, Kumbaya

Kumbaya, my Lord, Kumbaya

Kumbaya, my Lord, Kumbaya

Oh, Lord, Kumbaya.

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          The dreams. Kumbaya ~ Come By Here, Lord. Gently, St Joseph lifts the veil. The attacks have begun. Do not fear. Tend to the wounded.

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