I worship You like the sunset,
I take the colors deep inside,
until no reds or blues are left,
and all is black as night.
I bring the colors home with me –
and draw them out again,
for all the men who haven’t seen,
what light can do to them.
I draw until there’s nothing left,
and then stow away the pens,
and crawl inside my bed to rest –
Tomorrow we will meet again.
Until then.
People often ask me why I study words,
and languages, dialects, sounds and calls,
“for adventure”, or “love”, I’ve said before,
but this really is not the case at all.
I rarely discuss the reason I learn each word,
because I think most would find it rather strange,
that a man would spend his life to learn,
just one more word to give You praise.
Give me the words, I pray.
I am the morning and the light blue sky,
which begs for a new day.
My clouds have formed at proper heights,
and my winds know all their ways.
So draw near to me, right now, I pray -
Or take your time. – Just come.
For I am the morning. Here I wait.
Because each morning needs the Sun.
Oh Lord, I want to bless You,
when the wind calms by and by,
when water wanes with the moon,
or o’er waterfalls and sky.
Oh Lord, I want to bless You,
when lovers break love’s way,
and so pervert its joyous tune,
to have passion for one day.
Oh Lord, I want to bless You,
when others curse Your name -
to form a phrase, if mis-strewn,
into words which speak your praise.
Oh Lord, I want to bless You,
when the penitent stop to breathe,
to fill those moments with a rune,
forever old, and pure, and deep.
Until the world is as it should be -
when time is forgotten, as before -
I shall ever murmur such words, sweet.
For this I am. And was born.
On the golden heights near heaven’s mount,
The Lord sits to watch his holy gate,
Each pilgrim who walks homeward bound,
He loves, misses, and awaits.
Lord, what do you think of my soul,
Which may tire some, but never sleep?
For I shall ever journey ’til I am old.
And it is not rest that I seek.
