Fine weaver of all things, our God:
you thread all earth's beauty and form,
your fingers sustaining our world,
the sunshine, the cloud and the storm.
Skilled architect, building in stone,
wise planter of everything green,
the red of the blood, the white bone,
the rhythm of heartbeats unseen.

Good farmer of soil and of seed,
first gardener of colour and scent,
of harvests supplying our need,
the fruit of the land we are lent.
Your sands are for many their home,
who look to the sky for the rain;
your forests where myriads roam,
and travelling flocks of the plain.

Prime source of each river and stream,
rich Lord of the deep and the dark,
the dancing of dolphins, the gleam
of the salmon, the seal and the shark.
And now we explore distant skies,
discoveries stretching the mind,
as science brings shock or surprise
and wonder at what we shall find.

Yet such sore pollution we see,
the spoiling of nature displayed,
humanity no longer free;
how far from the peace which you made!
What rebels we all have become,
what wasters and wreckers of good;
our minds and our consciences numb,
our hearts which have not understood.

Have mercy, Lord! This is your earth,
we cry in our weakness to you;
your promise gives hope of rebirth,
in Christ all creation made new.
Till then let us care for this place,
in wisdom your riches to use,
to treasure these moments of grace,
as stewards of faith and good news

Christopher M Idle (b.1938)
© Christopher M Idle, admin. The Jubilate Group
Metre: 8 8 8 8 D (DLM)