Show me how to latch on to the spirit
of my spirit, O Lord,
for no golden key I’ve been able to find
to padlock it safely within my self.
Smoothen the surface of my flute O Lord
that the plaintive notes that leave it
are never out of tune.
Remove the blemishes of my canvas O Lord
that the simple strokes that I make
are soft and never harsh.
Soften the hardness of my medium, O Lord
that the chips I chisel are the ones
that are meant to be cut.
Bestow Thy attention to my weaveloom O Lord
that the threads I entwine
turn it into a tapestry of joy.
But it is only when I swallow
the remnants of my pride O Lord,
I comprehend that my goodness
in which I revel
is also a gift that comes
from the freedom of choice
that Thou have gifted me with.