Holding your new form, resting in arm’s niche,
in that moment, forever devoted –
the Lord, sewing us in a blanket stitch –
I vow to shield from evil revolted.
Your eyes cradle a world of innocence,
mountains watch lambs drinking at the river –
a candle reflects your land’s genesis,
I vow to trace as your cartographer.
Multitudes may your valleys be given,
and may your skies fill with wisdom bestowed:
honey from dawn-light and dew from heaven,
I vow to guide the way on winding roads.
My duty He has chosen to appoint –
the songs of doves hum from oil’s anoint.