My heart is turned toward thee,
Thine face is there engraved.
Within the reaches of my soul,
Thy memory is saved.
Thy presence doth surround me,
Mine eyes see only thee.
Upon mine ears your voice doth fall,
Like distant melody.

My soul is turned toward thee,
Without thee incomplete;
A rose without a fragrance,
The soul no longer sweet.
The petals bruised and broken,
The stem and leaf forlorn;
Till all twas left is emptiness,
A heart and soul of thorns.

My heart is turned toward thee,
My soul turned toward thy soul;
When thine heart is turned toward mine,
Tis then mine will be whole.

Allison Chambers Coxsey