Into my storm
God speaks:
Who is this?
Who is this?
Who asks why?
My child, my child
It is I.

Who rolls the clouds
All together
Then squeezes them dry?
My child, my child
It is I.

Who tosses the waves
From deeper than deep
Up so high?
My child, my child
It is I.

Who calls down thunder
To light up the land
From the darkened sky?
My child, my child
It is I.

Into your storm
May God speak:
My child, my child
Under my wings
Dry you will keep.

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