Everything is beautiful,
everything is true,
the robe of entitlement is severed
when I look at you
Everything is golden,
brushed with holy light
And reflecting some
Mysterious, divine delight.
A broken poem
With lines unread
We sit cradled in worthless words
And misplaced direction.
Unfinished thoughts and
Snipped strings
Lie desolate amongst
All of our tarnished dreams.
I was beautiful before
The invasion of lust
Beautiful again, now conquered
By truth and trust.
You, the song of my days
The liturgy of my life,
Your love is a poem that
Creation endeavors to write.
It’s just you and me,
My Father and my God
My anxious heart settles as
Through your garden I trod
Next to you, line by line
Page after page
Your mercy extends to
The end of the age.
You are my vision,
You are my strength,
The sum of all my goodness and
You are my earnest plea.
All the words I write,
All the praise I have sung,
You are the Master Author
Of this great anthem of Love.
