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.