The Gracious Star

Be thou only
A bright sweet star
Whose radiance bespeaks intellect
Whose light serves not only to reflect the glory
Of those who gather near
Like the fickle waxing waning moon.

Be thou my only
Burning glorious star
Whose heat warms cold hands
Comforts my aching heart and soothes the soul
Of the lost and lonely
Like the lamp in the window of home.

Be thou,
Only if it pleases thee,
Be thou the grace of these halls
Thy light throwing all flame to shadows
Guide my moving
Leading me from the darkness and despair.

Be thou utterly
And evermore a single point
Of illumination more bright than any
Candle ever lit within this cathedral of learning.
Shame the torches,
And teach me to burn with your joy.

Be thou my light
Be if it so amuses thee
The gracious rent in the fabric of night
Through which Heaven blazes and angels
Weep for the beauty
Of the gentle glow of your skin on your hand.
Touching mine.