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It's about the heat, Lord,
the heat every one's complaining about,
the heat that strains the grid
and drains our strength
leaving us powerless, bent down
as wilted blossoms, parched and dry
in the noon day sun...
But summer's warmth's no more a curse
than heat that bakes a loaf of bread
or fires a clay pot in the kiln
or flames with beauty upon the hearth
or presses the sweat of honest toil...
Heat and cold, sun and rain,
summer, fall, winter, spring:
all ways for you to touch us, Lord,
and make your presence felt, deeply,
in the marrow of our souls...
Just months ago we cursed the cold
and prayed for warmth, for spring,
for summer days - and now they're here
our temperamental tastes are looking
for on shore breezes to cool things down
until September comes and once again
we'll mourn the loss of summer's sun...
Be patient with us, Lord, and with our fickle ways
but most of all, whether in the heat or in the cold,
touch us, permeate our bodies
and make your presence felt and known
in the marrow of our souls...
Amen.
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