Nest

A collection of broken pieces
From piles of fallen remnants
Torn, shattered, lifeless looking substance
Caught in cobwebs, stuck in holes, left to decay
But this, in itself, is precious treasure to the one who knows best
As he seeks to build his beautiful nest

He swoops down low and redeems the mess
He reaches into dusty holes, and picks out what's left
He sees life and charm and warmth and rest
And carries it all to the place he calls nest

Many Journeys, many trips, to save the bits that make the nest
A piece might fall and drift to the ground
No-one knows the heart-ache that he feels now
Or the plans or the purposes of the one small piece
That slips through the beak of the master
Who seeks to save and love and nurture

Wounds and scars and attacks he endures
As foes steal, tear down and destroy
But his courage and drive to gather and build
Are far stronger than the enemy, to whom he will not yield
In pursuit of providing safety and rest
The master continues to pick up the mess
And carry it to the place he calls nest

Piece upon piece is put into place
And with love and such amazing grace
A nest is formed from nothing but waste
It's inviting, it's warm, it's calling us in
The nest is open for anyone to own
For everyone to call... home