Darkness is an unlit wick
A simple spark would vanquish it
Truly I could burst to flame
Every time you call my name
Do I do for you the same?

 

In our ever-present need of Thee
Grant we fathom peace
Fashion instruments of souls set free
For don’t the caged ones weep?

God is like a honeybee
Penetrates the soul of me

Truly draws the sweetness in
Nectar of the meek ones is
He in me and I in Him

In our ever-present need of Thee
Grant we fathom peace
Fashion instruments of souls set free
For don’t the caged ones weep?

 

Sometimes sober, sometimes bliss
Every union knows of this
I have stood here in His rain
Bear the marks of fertile plains
Swelling streams & swollen grain

 

In our ever-present need of Thee
Grant we fathom peace
Fashion instruments of souls set free
For don’t the caged ones weep?

 

So will I console the fog
Of cheerless creatures great & small
What of sadness can endure
When love divine makes insecure
The growing claims of shame’s allure

 

— Francis of Assisi