The cup of our living flows over its rim
And minds have no room for the fresh or the new,
For minds that are sated have stopped in their tracks
And ceased to be open to God’s widening view.
It’s minds that are empty that birth the new thoughts
And only when empty that pictures can screen.
The source of creating is space in between
The clutter of ‘fullness’ that kills every dream.
Deep down in our being unclutteredness dwells,
A wellspring for birthing what’s novel and true,
A space of connecting with Cosmos and God,
The realm of the freshness which all can renew.
O God of the artist, creating new works,
O God of the myst’ry which no-one can fill,
In you is the fullness of all that has life,
n you is the richness of all that is still.
Alternative Tunes: FOUNDATION ST DENIO
Text and Music © William Livingstone Wallace.
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