Without Wings My Sacred Soul Will soar

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Without Wings My Sacred Soul Will Soar

My purple dress with blue hue so slight
I wear in Thine honor, O my Blessèd Lord
Twelve o’clock, one or two o’clock, day or night—
Whenever Thou consumes the time I afford

My hat I doff to clouds swimming in the sky
My shoes planted on the ground remain true
All my colorful clothes I present for Thy sacred reply
Every thread waits and waits for Thy clue

I am more than all my fine clothes
My heart is burning, yearning only for Thee
My mind is turning, turning from woes
My soul is shedding its veil of mockery

I will be Thy humble singer of sacred lore
That without wings my sacred soul will soar

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You are welcome to join me on the following social media:
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