From the sleep of ages
I am stirred by the kiss of love,
By the fragrant perfume.
When His name is mentioned
I have learned to wait for Him,
To receive His presence
With the sound of laughter,
And the joy of resting.
But listen, my Lover
Is coming from heaven’s throne.
Over the mountains, leaping the hills,
He runs like a deer through the open plain.
Gazing through windows,
Peering through doors,
My Lover is calling and calling again:
‘Rise up, my lovely, beautiful one,
The winter is past and the rains are gone.’
Flowers appear all over the earth,
These are the promised days,
This is the season of singing.
There is no preferring
In the Lover’s loving,
We are all His treasure,
His desired inheritance.
He has come with blessings
From the Father’s throne-room,
Gifts of power and healing
For a needy people.
The wonder, the pleasure,
Of knowing, of being known.
