6 But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.
The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me: thy mercy, O Lord, endureth forever; forsake not the works of thine own hands.
3 Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power, in the beauties of holiness from the womb of the morning: thou hast the dew of thy youth.
In the morning’s womb was Truth conceived; the place where love and hope believed.
In this place of solace bred; to every deed worth taking led.
What sound makes planets when out they cry? Or of shining stars when, lost, they die?
But hope resounds for that the tomb – was made a very godly womb.
Death could not prevent the Truth: confine Him to a prison-booth.
And as the tree is drying out: mortal man a murderous lout.
Yet in the silence still is conceived, the Word of Life that man received.
While we weep for our tragic pain, the womb of life yet still remain.
From the womb a spring of life, for what’s conceived is worth the strife;
And on the very contrariwise, that which isn’t is brought of lies.
63 It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.
God, find me in the morning’s womb – that place where the day was birthed; the tomb of Christ, where life was conceived.
I see that Truth, that only that which is conceived of the Spirit is Truly alive; and in me You have conceived Truth – having set in me messages. And now I wait for what?
Nothing that I strive for has worth, or merit if it be not first conceived of the Spirit.
And so my heart is open now, and yearning for the seed to sprout.
Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the LORD keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.