Tempel Timber

Every head bowed

Every eye closed

See that hand I

Raise that hand

From the shallows

Into the Sun unseen

God speaks and he lives

In the measure

In the blackened field

He gives healed

On my arm is sealed

The gleaming hem

The gleaming hem

The gleaming hem of heaven's garment

Sharp as Sheol

Glowing bell toll

Strong as death to hold

The advancing flame

The very fire my soul

The tough shove

The itching ear

Of the habit

Of the collar

Of the cloth

The fearing spear

Set forth

Funerary arts attire

Poured out

Poured out

Flaming tongues of fire

Winking on the past I AM

Your hand on the ark

Sight through the horns of the ram

Arching moment

Every arching moment

O Temple timber