You can speak the private language of my soul
You can hear the whispers of my heart
You can navigate the deepest darkest holes of my inner parts.
You can take the selfish things we pray to You
Somehow its Your tender heart be stirred
You can hear the things our songs would say to You
If we could find the words.
You are the finest thing that I could live for
And I pray You are the thing for which I die
Your heart to know so easy to approach and after all
What else is there to life?
Cuz You can ride the clouds or ride a donkey’s colt
You can walk on waves or walk on sod
Balancing the great irreconcilable- fully man and fully God.
You can squeeze a rich man through a needles eye
But squeezing is a painful thing for sure
And we rich folks don’t like pain so maybe that’s why You say “Blessed are the poor”
Cuz You can spin the earth and hold the sun in place
And You nudge every autumn leaf to fall
And You can swim in every tear on every face for You created all
Oh You created all
You are the finest thing that I could live for
And I pray You are the thing for which I die
Your heart to know so easy to approach and after all
What else is there to life?
by Ross King