To speak of Incarnation
Of God with a face like ours
Of Love's disfiguration
Till we look through the scars
The Kingdom is a mustard seed
Too small to apprehend
It grows beneath our feet
But towers in the end

Love is the higher law
Stronger than the grip of gravity
Even truer than the grave in front of me
Even in the mundane I feel miracles
I could never make believe
Rising in the present
A little taste of Heaven's
Effervescence

So take a look around
But see through a child's eyes
The miracles are low
Hid from the high and wise
Like treasures in the dirt
Only the poor could find
A garden free to all
Who leave all else behind

Come all ye weary souls
So sick of all the noise
Come transubstantiate
Your sorrows into joys
If you've got ears to hear
And you've got eyes to see
Behold The Spirit's work!
Don't miss the mystery