Withering journeys of spite in the temples by night and by turning these
Cusps into holiness; sighs come from deepness and life’s little destinies,
Whether of beckoning pleasures or constant reminders of arrogance
Housed in the bodies of every warm heartbeat this cannot be man’s own choice.
Let not a knower or seeker foresee that our lives are predestined to be,
Here in God’s gracious land; there be stones tossed in vain,
Leap of faith! Act of God! From the pit to the sky!
In hearts alive, we know that now will soon be then,
Above this heart of mine there is a God of love and light.