On Eden's primal day when everything was new, we humans heard the sound of birds and sensed what we must do. We, too, began to sing our own melodic phrase. Like larks at dawn we sang a song to give our Maker praise. But soon we found a way to play expressive tunes on drums of skin and pipes of tin, with flutes of green bamboo. Then some, with wondrous skill, combined these tones en masse. In organ sound our God is found when air, through pipes, is passed. Renew our praise, O God, within this hallowed space. May everything we pray and sing be mirrors of your grace. Revive our cautious hearts, embolden all we do, inflate our nerve, send us to serve to give our thanks to You.