To our souls made brittle by constant score keeping

You are the moisture that softens

and washes the record clean;

 

To our hearts exhausted from carrying the burden of being right

You are the bed that beckons us to rest

and slip into the dream of being loved;

 

To our minds confused by the logic of law

You are the unreasonable child

who leads us to dance impishly across the lines;

 

For all this we praise You,

and for the shocking freedom it brings we thank You.

 

Amen

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