O There you are, my little one, so cold and tired be,
Come, lay on now, my shoulders, let your Master carry thee.
Across the treacherous rocky cliffs, that line the restless sea,
To reach, at last, that quiet place, to find your home in Me.
Ever soft and feathery light, what blessed food is this?
Ground, the rough and broken grain, now, smooth as satin kiss.
Granted for our eating, what no angel could resist,
Sweet manna for the journey, His flesh, the Eucharist.
“Man ate the bread of the angels” ~ Psalm 78:25
“My flesh is real food” ~ John 6:55
Come, stoke this slumbering furnace, again its bellows strain,
A trial by tempest fire, at last, I’m alive again.
Breathing, heaving, burning, with each turn, a deep refrain,
Then even as all is ashes, o how bright, the glory gain!
Oh twist me round your finger, your puppet, let me be,
Docile to your prompting, a captive yet so free.
For what indeed is freedom, to which heaven should I flee,
In you, I’ve found my resting, your hand, the lock and key.
A world now for the taking, to reap with hearts afire,
To go, its every corner, to arouse the heart’s desire.
With love and grace, unfailing, faith that braves the fire,
To claim the crown of glory, the peace that all aspire.
“I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!” ~ Luke 12:49
Meet me on the other side, as hopes and dreams take flight,
Rising through the fear and doubt, to greet His glorious light.
There among the birds and clouds, free, the summer’s kite,
And laughter will be friend to us, as we touch the celestial height.
Find Hope in every season, the sun, the snow and rain,
The quiet hills and valleys, the mountains and the plain.
Where death and life completing, the harvest, yields the grain,
The pangs of birth renewing, how sweet, the babe’s refrain.