A Prayer on a June Sunday

My prayers, my God, flow from what I am not;

I think thy answers make what I am.

Like weary waves thought follows upon

But the still depth beneath is all thine own,

And there thou mov’st in paths to us

Out of strange strife thy peace is strangely

If the lion in us pray – thou answerest the

by George Macdonald
Image of the blue "Seascape" is reproduced by kind permission of artist Hilke Macintyre from here

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