By Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer
leaves listen for the whisper
trees grow and die for light
twigs snap to interrupt You
the murmur of birds'flight
the egg left startled mother
life's urge to flee and find
a predator-free moment
a coat for suited clime
You need no such nor give it
but show me to accept
to use the flameI'm given
to see, purge, warm collect
about me what You tell me
I need to live in You
bride clothed in charity grace
Your passion I pursue
