My heart sings
Like an open book
that gently rises and falls
upon the chest of its dozing reader
is my love for Thee, oh Lord
Who art the ink of every word
and the very heart of the sun
that gave the light
that fed the tree
that made the page
upon which each and every word is printed
Paper and skin and ink art Thou
Intimate with all things
Like the sweetness
of the salt
of the tears that mark the end of suffering
is my gratitude to Thee, my Lady
Who art the very iron in my blood
and the pulse of the heart of the moon
that pulls the earth
that tugs the tide
that makes the waves
that wash about my feet
Sea and flesh and sand art Thou
Intimate with all things.
Like the song
of the petals
of the flower
that opens each morning
to the grace and the hum
of the humble bumble bee
is my praise for Thee
oh Creator and Creation
Nectar and pollen art Thou
honey and taste and tongue
Intimate with all things
Like an open book
that gently rises and falls
upon the chest of its dozing reader
is my love for Thee, oh Lord
Who art the ink of every word
and the very heart of the sun
that gave the light
that fed the tree
that made the page
upon which each and every word is printed
Paper and skin and ink art Thou
Intimate with all things
Like the sweetness
of the salt
of the tears that mark the end of suffering
is my gratitude to Thee, my Lady
Who art the very iron in my blood
and the pulse of the heart of the moon
that pulls the earth
that tugs the tide
that makes the waves
that wash about my feet
Sea and flesh and sand art Thou
Intimate with all things.
Like the song
of the petals
of the flower
that opens each morning
to the grace and the hum
of the humble bumble bee
is my praise for Thee
oh Creator and Creation
Nectar and pollen art Thou
honey and taste and tongue
Intimate with all things