For man can plant and water,
but cannot make them grow;
Though only of our Father,
are the flowers swayed to show.

So as my words speak life,
and to love and service my actions prone;
Therein the blossom of my soul,
The Father's heart becomes my own.

Spoken into a beam of light;
A lifted weight of eternal might.

Trancending toward expansion's core;
Awakened in whom we're carried for.

A uniting in breath at deep request;
As the rhythym of longing inside our chests,

Becomes a symphony of tympany pattering the sky,
Releasing intent in the dissention of I.

In the embrace of all, in Love, as one;
Truly then has prayer begun.