PSALM 147

How sweet to sing to you, Lord,

and to thank you for all your blessings.

You rebuild what has been ruined

and recreate what was lost.

You heal the brokenhearted;

you are medicine for their wounds.

You lift up the afflicted

and give them the courage to endure.

You count the myriad stars

and call each one by its name.

Infinite is your power,

incalculable your wisdom.

You scatter the snow like wool

and sprinkle the frost like ashes.

You strew ice crystals like breadcrumbs;

the earth becomes bitter cold.

You breathe warm winds and the ice melts;

you blow and the waters flash.

You cover the sky with clouds;

you send down your rain to the earth,

making grass grow on the hills

and plants to nourish mankind.

You give the wild animals their prey;

you feed the young ravens when they cry.

You delight in the power of the horse

and take pleasure in the legs of an athlete.

But most, you rejoice in a pure heart

and in those who let you shine through them.

You give them joy in your joy,

and you bless their loves with your love.

You bring your peace to their families

and grant them your infinite wealth.

You send your wisdom to their minds;

your light runs faster than a thought.

Above all others they are blessed,

because they can hear you speak

(though your love speaks in all people,

in the silence of every heart).