Beauty from ashes,
An act to which I stand to witness,
For hope is born in no purer flesh,
And new life sprung from more dead things,
Glory is perfected in this blessed gift,
Power in our weakness,
Wisdom in our folly,
And you place a pretty flower in the wake,
It seems to sway in peaceful pastures,
Calling Abba, Father to its place,

For now I hold your presence close,
In beauty and in truth:
The ashes gone.