As another chip
melts off my shoulder
I see there are no limit
signs in Heaven –
I wonder, when I
see the petals of a flower
In places which are
desolate and graven
I see there are no limit
signs in Heaven,
The creative stroke
of word and deed
In places which are
desolate and graven
Find themselves
spreading to each need
The creative stroke
of word and deed
Rooted by planting
from our knees
Find themselves
spreading to each need
And tower beyond
the greatest of trees
Rooted by planting
from our knees,
Branching from the
vine of our salvation
And tower beyond
the greatest of trees
By living water,
sustaining our perfection
Branching from the
vine of our salvation
I wonder when I see
the petals of a flower –
By living water
sustaining our perfection
As another chip
melts off my shoulder
[Also published in the October issue of Synchronized Chaos.]