It’s not easy getting to grips
With eternity and infinity,
I don’t want to repeat myself,
But rather to complete myself,
But how should I speak of divinity
If God doesn’t open my lips?
The words have endured wear and tear,
While I worship, petition and bless.
I don’t want to be insincere,
I wait for the meaning to reappear,
Sometimes I believe more, sometimes less,
And I’ve nothing, at times, to declare.
If my mouth will declare Your praise
The language may fashion the thought,
And the words of supplication
Determine the meditation
To which they gives support
Through each time-honoured ancient phrase.
At times, when my heart’s in my mouth
I’m in tune with a great cosmic beat
Then I don’t believe that I cheat myself
It’s all right to repeat myself,
It’s different each time I repeat,
With my right hand, yemini, to the south.