Sweet Mother, come to me.
Visit my ground.
See my wild, unruly state.
In your holy vision,
Contemplate the Face of your Son,
Recreate His countenance in Me.
Come again, and again, and again,
Work the miracle of grace upon grace.
Sun and rain.
Make of me a garden.
Prepare it by your prayer, and presence.
For His good pleasure.
Then, on this plain of your true humility,
Raise me for His pure delight,
Here to welcome heaven,
To sing, to play, to dance.
By Joann Nelander