Oh God, the voice, the hand , the touch, save me         

Is what I make  original and new?
Can  Imagination   rise and fly with me
To   recreate the glory   this child knew?

Who lit the candle flame that brought me view?
Who opened up my inner eye to see?
Is what I make  original and new?

We’re birthed  into a culture others grew
We´ŕe part of that,  responsible and  free
Oh,   recreate the glory children knew

We make music with our voices too
The ram’ś horn  or the string/ed lute make plea
Is what we make  original and new?

The charcoal on the paper is a clue
I sail  with joy upon my  inner sea
Oh,   recreate the glory    children  knew

Oh,God , oh eye,  have mercy upon me
Oh God, the voice, the hand , the touch, save me:
Is what I make  of worth and pattern new?
To create , to live , must  we know Calvary?