O Lord...

O Lord hear my prayers. Grant me the grace
Of a spring-like song; far from the dark strains
Of winter' solemn hymns. May your kind ways,
Slow and so gentle, heal my hurried brain.
In the early morning dew, I sometimes
Glimpse your presence. I wish to perceive
Things with innocent, child-like eyes.
I long for former days of gold and green;
When all was one under a certain sun.
I've seen miraculous beauty unfold
Within the precious light of faith. I long
To receive your Love once again. These woes
Are temporary, and like shadows, they'll fade.
O Lord, in times of doubt, grant me your grace.