Lord in the Sacrament, forgive me,
who am for ever asking, ever taking,
and hear my song of praise
this day in making.
I praise You, God, for silver-eyes
that fluster in their bath this morning;
for mares' tails that stream the skies,
and windy dawning.
I praise You, God, for homely sounds
of neighbours to their business falling;
of milkmen crying on their rounds
and newsboys calling.
I praise You, God, for this and that,
for little things – the spice and salting;
for this, my song, though it be flat
and somewhat halting.
Lord in the Sacrament, I ask this day
no smallest gift of all within Your making,
only I pray You, God,
this song be taking.
Paul L. Grano