Where rest is set and peace is sown,
The sunrise and dawn are mine alone.
A covenant forged—just God and me,
My church stands high, stone-built and free.
Upon a mountain, firm and wide,
An orchard blooms on every side.
Each ration blessed by Heaven’s hand,
Planted with care, by love unmanned.
What more creed does one require?
Contentment douses all desire.
The richest soul is he who needs
No more than what the spirit feeds.
I sing my song with head held high,
No shame, no sorrow, no goodbye.
My wine is sweet, and purely mine,
Pressed in stillness, aged in time.
In solitude, I find the way
The questions gone, the answers stay.
I’m priest and penitent in one,
My absolution, self-begun.
So thank You, God, for this great gift:
The sacred silence, the spirit’s lift.
Solitude and I walk blind
Together lost, yet not to be found.
