I Have Chosen You

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          A sweet morning. Tender sunbeams, breath~soft winds tickling boughs and leaves. In a gentle yearning, I return to the hymn of yesterday, God And Man At Table Are Sat Down. The minute I begin to play it, the winds rustle stronger.

          Then, I see the words,

I have chosen you

          And the wind voices rise high.

          My St. Michael sign.

I have chosen you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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