The waiting night is slowly changing. A greyness glimmers in the east. The fields appear, and formless shadows take shape as trees, a house, a road. Christ, in our darkness, be our hidden light. Show us a way. Help us to walk together. The growing light is strong and shining. The morning clouds are tipped with gold, and in the towns with silent houses the street-lamps fade into the dawn. Christ, in our darkness, be our growing light. Give us your peace. Wake us to hope together. The east is red, its waking glory cannot be hidden or delayed. It draws the gaze of hidden travelers, and celebrates the coming day. Christ, let your dying draw our wondering eyes. Exultant love, bring all the peoples together. The morning sun breaks into vision. A rim of fire is on the hills. A child, entranced, sits at her window, and men, half-smiling, shield their eyes. Christ, lift our spirits while we wait for dawn. Sing in our hearts, bring us to resurrection.