Billows of glory
You punctuate my story
With beauty acute.
I tremble mute
Before Your holy fire
Purifying my desires
With a love fierce as violence.
I scream blind whence
You work the burn and balm
Opening my soul to psalm
So infinitely beyond me.
You intercede incessantly,
Taking my part with Yours:
Oh my God, oh my Love, Oh my Lord
You are mine;
Make me Yours.
viewingcamelot 
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