In the greatness and the power of the storm, We feel at one with wind and form. With the rhythm and the rush of the sea, the blood in our veins beats endlessly. The long grass as we run merges with us, And our soul lifts up its song of praise— A song without a tune nor word, yet the deepest music ever heard. Thus the beauty of this world instills in us a glimpse of worlds that are to be. And our song of praise finds ecstasy, ’Til we feel we must break free and lay this jewel at our Beloved’s feet— And in our failure, cry out in distress... The storm is stilled, the grass has died, and the sea has drawn its breath aside. Night falls heavy on the land, and on our heart its shadows stand. Darkness, silence, sorrow deep wrap our weary soul in sleep. And there it finds a world of dreams— more real than waking ever seems— a world where, far from mortal sight, lie bodies curled in sleep’s soft night... How to name that dawn’s first fire, after tears have washed away desire— "And awakened a new being." Our souls now cleansed by yesterday’s rain, All empty and clean to be filled again with warmth and light, with praise renewed to the One who changes old to new, Who clears the dross to fill with song— a rising praise both bright and strong— Love - to be sacrificed, wisdom - to bless, our hearts with a song of praise to the One... The One of our longing; the One of our love.
