Who can fathom the intimacy of prayer?
Your eyes never leave me.
Your Heart is ever open to my sighs.
You wait, watching to catch my eye.
You watch, waiting for a return of love ,
And suffer my distraction.
You listen for my footsteps.
You long to hear my voice,
And Your Heart leaps,
When I whisper Your Name.
Who can penetrate
The devotion of Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
To this poor work of Your Hand,
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
For the final touches of Your Love?
Lord, make of me a place of roses,
A gathering of saints,
A palace of Your glory,
Alive with the radiant splendor
Of Your Holy Spirit.
Give me that sincere and true humility,
That clears my ground
Of briars, weeds and thistle,
That rakes away debris
And furrows my field crosswise
To welcome the rains
And receive the seed
Of love and deeds as new growth
Sprouting joy and fruit aplenty.
Come here to my happy garden
To take Your rest,
Lay aside Your Cross
In promised Resurrection
Bringing forth the Sun
To shine on all.