In
the midnight hours
when all is dull and drear,
city noise, air conditioning hum,
faint traffic noise, distant siren,
no silence anywhere,
no word spoken I wish to hear.
Words are everywhere, but
there is no inner resonance.
In the city white noise,
no word speaking to the heart.
No heart word from without,
but the Spirit speaks within.
The voice of the Lord
makes the oaks to writhe.
In his temple all cry, “Glory”.
Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.
“Thou, O Lord, art more beautiful
than an army with banners.
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