Found

In the grave with the body, in hell with the soul,
in Paradise with the thief.
The Good Shepherd,
in the storm of wrath,
the desert of death,
found what He was looking for.

The ninety-nine angels rejoice.
The widow dances with her lost coin.
The merchant wonders at the pearl.
The father embraces, festoons and rings His son.
The wheat kernel dies, the mustard seed blossoms,
and the oak reaches its arms to the stars.

Streams gush forth in the desert from the Rock,
the pierced side,
he that saw it bore witness and his testimony is true.

We were lost, shades in hades, the wilderness of wandering,
oddly named
("Sin", can you believe it?),
spirit-bound.

Today is the end of life-squandering,
the closure of shame:
Grace, can you receive it?
We were lost,
and now we're found.