The hymns which speak of You as lofty king
are not the ones I want to hear today.
Afflicted as I am, I want to sing
the hymns that show You in another way.
It’s not that I deny that You are royal,
nor do I think that I am not a peasant,
yet in this world of beauty and of toil,
the hymns I want to sing show You as present:
You’re here with us, not on some distant throne
and grant our joys and share in our afflictions,
amidst the sinfulness to which we’re prone
and make us real although we have been fictions.
Not living in a castle, encircled by a moat,
You’re all around us – intimate, not remote.
Mario A. Pita