God, unto whom all hearts are open, unto whom all will
is spoken, unto whom nothing is hidden,
I beseech Thee to cleanse the intent of my heart
with the unspeakable gift of Thy grace that
I may perfectly love Thee and worthily praise Thee.
We are made of time.
We are its feet and its voice.
The feet of time walk in our shoes.
Sooner or later, we all know,
the winds of time will close the tracks.
Passage of nothing, steps of no one.
The voice of time tells of the voyage.