Words of The Lamb magazine

sacred seeds of mercy
bless this dying ground
your crown it can be
passed all around

the soft earth will grow you
and keep you in its care
the tired wind may blow you
but rain will it share

the setting sun will dip
while I lay below this tree
the valley oak spread high and wide
with its branches, protect me

the moon and owl will soon be out
the beaver will rejoice
the holy song of creation bounce
from voice to voice to voice