All flowers turn towards the sun,

Long grass swaying in the breeze;

As sunbeams settle, these are none

For a traveller to seize.

All is quiet under the moon,

We should look, not hide away -

As moon beams have a special tune;

They reach into souls that stay.

I love thy kindred face I see,

Oh, the love, the joy, the pain;

Would that I know what is inside me -

Helpless as despairing rain.

Describeless words flow oft through me -

Hopeless dreams dwell where I lie,

To live on what could never be;

Oh the shame of shouting "why?"

This world is full of beauteous thing -

All are hidden by a mask;

Yet God's hand praised them, like a king's -

Touched them I a holy task.

We have one life - we have to live -

For e'er long will be reward;

But our love, our hearts have to give -

This give love to our own Lord.

9/2/89