You have set the farthest star
You have heard the hatchling’s cry
You have timed the tides afar
And designed each wondrous eye.
There is not invention made
That you have not forged the thought
Neither nature’s hues portrayed
Neither moving music wrought.
You should have my constant praise
And arrest my heart and mind
But the press of common days
Takes me off just like the wind.
I might try to come in prayer
To the Source of all things good
But the words are seldom there
To adore you as I should.
Could your grace just tune my heart?
Could your touch just bend my knee?
I am yours and set apart
Help this wayward child to see.
See the ebook He Is Immense