God, take this stone and make it yours;
   breathe life into this statue's pores.
May blank grey eyes see as yours do,
   as hardened lines become sinew,
and fingers move to your sweet will
   that once sat silent, cold, and still;
feet stir that stood in granite stance,
   to the Sculptor's song begin to dance.
     God, by your spirit's quickening power
     enliven me this very hour
       to be like you.

God, touch me with your shaping hand;
   release me from my concrete stand,
not that I loathe the Carver's knife,
   but God, Oh God! To have your life -
to know your grace, possess your love
   as do the saints at home above.
Free me from this form of stone
   'til a statue I no longer am.

   With your touch and by your word
   breathe life into this statue, God -
     make me like you.