You are before me,
Drawing me ever closer.
I am lost in loving,
Beseeching and begetting
By Your grace.
You call me,
“The apple of Your eye.”
Look, then, upon my world.
Perfect it,
Through this, my prayer.
Color the ghettos of sin
With hues of charity.
Bring a springtime of purity,
That earth may be as heaven,
Peopled with Children of God.
My loaves and fishes
Can feed the poor and hungry,
Though they be few, You are mighty.
Grace, Grace, O Holy Grace,
Behold me,
As I feast on Thee.
©2014 Joann Nelander