How is it that today alone
I look on what has always been?
Such grace was never to me shown—
I looked before, but had not seen.
But now I hear the call to start
in every breath the silence brings.
How did the darkness on my heart
become the shadow of your wings?
Each moment asks me once again
if I will be as you have said;
each pulse that beats, I breathe, “Amen,”
and I will do 'til I am dead.
If only I had always heard;
if only I had always seen—
but now you've given me your Word
that ever shall be and has been.
O God, do not take him from me,
but let me ever hear that voice
that stings more fiercely than the bee,
more sweetly than all honeyed joys!
But if you do, if he should go,
then honed and hollowed, still I'd say
what I have known, I yet will know.
Though light were flown, I see the day.
Kate Bluett 