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As the wind finds her birth in the convection currents. As the dawn binds her to the first rays of the sun. So I will, even if my words are insignificant, I will sing my song of praise and pay my homage to You my Creator.

Half lost, but searching, I did indeed find my way to You. My spiritual wounds inflicted by my own sin, this You did not bind up with reproach but with love and healing. Immature like a child I then forced myself upon You. I was afraid that death and hell would swallow me up in its jaws.

That is why I only feel safe in Your circle of protection. As every little stream and river finds its way to the sea. As spring finds its birth in the dying moments of winter. Just as the embryo ties itself to the womb with its umbilical cord for survival.

Yes, like the living spark that springs forth from the dead flint. So that the candlelight can illuminate a dark room to a warm soft golden hue. So my words come and however insignificant they may be. But with them I want to pay my homage and sing my song of praise in Your honour my El, my God and Creator, at the top of my lungs.