O Child of the Earth,
O Child of pagan birth,
Oh corn and straw, oh silky hair divine–
Bless me in my summertime.

Bless me in my passions,
bless me in my grace,
bless me when I stumble
and lose your holy face.

Bless me when I’m wrong,
bless me when I’m meek,
bless me when I‘m scared
of the silent words I sometimes hear you speak.

Bless me when others try to call
the devils back to this earth again.
Bless all who walk the light-filled path,
brushing away debris for others yet to come.

Bless me when I’ve been wronged, or so I humbly think.
Bless me to realize that no matter what happens,
it’s only a single chapter in times
too infinite to ever comprehend

Bless me when I grapple with things I can’t understand.
Bless me when I’m silent and can faintly feel your hand,
holding mine so firmly, invisible and strong.

Help me when I have enough to stop and share;
digging deep into my pockets that have dust and lint,
spreading out the wisdom wealth
like sowing crops upon a newly laid field.

Help me when I ache,
help me with my pains,
help me with the fogginess
that sometimes creeps into my heart and brain.

Help, oh Messiah,
who has always walked upon this Earth,
hidden in the earth,
enshrined in stones and tides

Help to unravel mysteries wide
before I lay me down to die.