O living Word of the Trinity;
help me to whisper your praises;
illuminate my creaturely mind,
wherein nothing is known in full,
thanks to mortality.

Jesus, speaking your Name is all I need,
entering mysteries of your presence;
my heart lights so eagerly to the ancient dance
of your Father and life-giving Spirit,
when I pay humble heed.

My hymn before the face of God,
chant the wonders of your love in me,
and resound the joy of resurrection:
— paschal, brightened, fiery night of wonder! —
Oh! despite an instrument so flawed.

My bread, my heavenly store of light,
feed me with the glorious food
that angels cannot touch or sense,
but my lowly flesh has been granted to hunger for:
fasting, awaiting your might.

My lamb, my meek and humble heart,
coursing on through my deepest soul,
(humility which died all the deaths,
that from the truest friendship flowed)
slake my thirst, like the panting hart!

My lamp on a darkened road!
Luminous darkness, mysterious Lord,
is all my lowly spirit is capable of.
O Morning Star that never sets,
draw me to your abode.

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