You, Who Creates

You who creates

the ashes and the dusk

Behold the flame

that struggles as it must

Give us

of your glory

Holy are we

Only with your trust.

I yearn to mourn

the fragments of the past

I strive to speak

but I know my words come last.

How then

to capture beauty?

Holy, holy

Ye who serve and pass.

My country, it has no borders;

My soul, no boundaries on earth.

These rocks are my only pillow;

My staff, the only thing I’m worth.

So pray as one;

And share with all;

Then say with me:

Amen.

*

From "You, Who Creates" by Daniel Viragh,

All rights reserved.