Of all created You are dearly prized,
Hey Lord and Master mine.
You exist in fire and wind;
Circling all You have been.
Only You are everybody's source.
In hidden fashion lone are You;
The multitudes You dwell amid.
In heaven and in hell, with quirks You're infused at birth,
Oh the Inner Spirit of everyone.
People think: "I achieve;
I achieve, with family."
But I am Yours, oh the Foot-dust Thief;[1]
This "I" is a bubble of Your compassion.
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And what You do, foolishly I lay claim to.
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