Look with your eyes,
and see the clay.
Look up high,
and see the new day.

See the life as it grows,
into my pleasure,
daily it really knows,
how to become My treasure.

So much to see
and think about.
Can you really grasp
the joy and the shout.

So many precious ones
that cry to Me,
for all they need.
What is the Key?

There is no doubt,
in their cry.
A pure heart of love,
is raised on high.

I desire faith in the heart,
strong and pure.
It will make mountains depart,
making the way open and sure.

It is a mighty thing,
when I bend down,
to hear the clay sing,
a very precious sound!


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