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
