Jet-lag faith

Maybe it’s jet-lag 

Crossing half the world in half a day;

Time zones, date lines, Meridian markers.

In one night you wake up on the other side 

And you believe anything is possible

So of course we would hear angel’s songs 
In the late evening living room.

It’s not a too far off sort of miracle,

It’s just a flight away,

A ladder’s width to descend.

The dreamer Jacob saw this,
The Son spoke of it before ascending 

In fact He was welcomed by the such voices 

So the song hasn’t stopped, nor ever-

“Glory to God in the highest,”
Arises, same strains sonneted 
From Bethlehem to Istanbul.
Was it the jet-lag to so easily accept 
The praise that came from mouths unseen?
Simple faith to agree that His flamed-tongued ministers are deployed 

For times such as these? 
To acknowledge by faith
Supernatural song belongs in my vocabulary. 
Awake or jet-lagging
Here or there or in between,  
We say, we hear, we agree; glory be.