Lord of the great simplicities
Still the whirring wheels of thought
And the noise of their confusion
Which drowns out your quiet voice.
Let my faith rest, limpid, clear,
Like Mary’s faith: not fully understanding,
But content to do your will.
That you, not I, are God.
Let your truth drop
Like living light
Into ordinary days,
The darkness that my ego’s shadows bring
The striving that turns backwards
In upon itself.
No angels come here
But your spirit wraps me round
With tenderness like tears,
Like falling rain,
Bringing life where I was dead.
Remind me your salvation
Is the most real thing I know.
I carry no Saviour in my womb;
But in my broken heart he builds his habitation
And I am blessed as she
Because I know
His name is Saviour.