A voice echoed from a godless land,
you know the place.
Where even relentless matter
makes no sign of being,
where all is nothing
and cries cannot stir it,
they tear only against themselves.
From a soul hollowed out
by the flawed wisdom of man,
one cried out for the living God;
and fell asleep by an open window,
the first gusts of summer
fluttering over the stillness inside.
As birds broke the dawn,
a voice soft as the pale light
settled
in the room,
touched
the one from sleep,
lifted eyes,
to the hush.
Ah, my daughter.
See,
I am here. Holy, holy
Oh so holy quiet care.
In His benevolence
anguish fades,
yet stillness,
not to break the crystal of His presence.
O Lord,
to reach the deepest darkest soul You
have bent Your light so low.
To brush cool the raw cheek
across the wilderness You came.
And so did a knowing deeper than the sea.
