Before the dread-full end of time,
when we peer no longer into
that dark, smoky mirror
but see you face to face, the veil removed;
before our doomsday
when we kneel alone before your throne,
most gentle Lamb of God,
work in us the miracle of transformation,
that we may yet be pure.
Scatter your visions into our dreams,
whisper your love song
on every breeze
until hearing, we turn,
and looking, we see,
and for every human, plant a tree,
for every newborn, clean a stream,
for every death,
set a caged bird free.
Through the transformation of our souls,
may we by your love
renew this earth.