O God
O God,
I come before you bowing still
To trod
The wide valley through your will
Let me
Know your hand upon my string
Lift me
High where the bright falcons sing
O God,
Like a desert all my sands of sin
Unclad
Bare my barren scrag of soul
Fill me
Until I am healed and whole
Mill me
No more, I am sheep not gold
Feed me thy love, the valley is cold.
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