If, as we work, we can transmit life into our work,
life, still more life, rushes into us to compensate, to be ready
and we ripple with life through the days.
Even if it is a woman making an apple dumpling,
or a man, a stool,
if life goes into the pudding, good is the pudding,
good is the stool,
content is the woman, with fresh life rippling in to her,
content is the man.
Blessed are You, Who understood my tears,
You comfort me with love's embrace.
Though my eyes cannot see You,
I feel your gentle Presence,
like angel wings lifting my spirit.
You turn my mourning into joy,
I dance to a new song.
Blessed are You, O loving companion
of my heart.