We see Your pageantry in starry skies.
The sun lights up the moon. The moon replies
In symmetry’s celestial disguise.
And can there be, in Gilead no balm,
No lovely hymn to sing to You, no psalm
In heartfelt praise, dear Lord of peace and calm?
No magnifying glass? No telescope?
No prose to rouse our faith to love and hope
On higher ground for universal scope?
Were there to be for Israel today
No intercessors, none to watch and pray –
Who would be prepared? Who would show The Way?
Let poetry and spiritual songs
Bear witness Lord, to whom all praise belongs.