… the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words
Romans 8:26
Kyrie, O Kyrie eleison.
Gone again the words to bear my plea.
Please, Word, form the sound my silence prays on.
Make it music, chant the ageless plainsong,
haunting echo calling deep to deep.
Kyrie, O Kyrie eleison.
Stretch it from the stars to my horizon
on the fragile web of light I see;
Please, Word, form the sound my silence prays on.
Be the birds whose chorus in the gray dawn
claims what waited through the night to be.
Kyrie, O Kyrie eleison.
Choreograph the evergreen that sways on
in the winter breeze to sign my need.
Please, Word, form the sound my silence prays on.
Sober Hannah, wordless, was amazed on
feeling first the kick of little feet.
Kyrie, O Kyrie eleison.
Please, Word, form the sound my silence prays on.
– Jeff Reed