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.