Your word that releases rolling hills of forests
From a tiny dried up seed,
And fills the earth with abundant fresh air for us--
An impressive feat indeed.
Your word that takes a writhing worm,
Pulls apart its pieces in a shell
To emerge with painted wings and forms
Your power to change, an impressive sell
So, cannot that prodigious word,
Reach a single quiet space and start
to shift invisible instincts
In this one, sinful heart.
Ross, climb this mountain with fiery plume
Learn every moment to surrender
"You are my servant, Israel, in whom
I will display my splendor"
(from Isaiah 49:3)