In the downpour,
I'm sitting and waiting,
Contemplative,
Stages to stages,
And I rest in your places.

In the furious rain and the roaring metal,
In the blaring music,
And the subtle whisper of people,
You are still there Lord,
Unleashed from the temple.

In transcendent, unhurried purpose,
You walk and you wrestle,
With weak men and strong men,
For broken is the perfect vessel,
So that I may get a surplus of grace and tussle,

Tussle with truth,
Tussle with wisdom,
Tussle with those around me in love,
That they may know you too,
Maybe place a little stone in their shoe.