Lord, you planted me on this earth.
You fenced me around with the love of family
and friends.
Their care towered over me.
In the shelter of this I grew in safety and peace.
I put out early blossoms, I filled up with leaves.
People had great hopes for me.
You had great hopes for me.
But now the year of my life is passing.
The harvest is approaching.
What fruit have I to show?
What if, after all this care,
I had nothing to offer but sour grapes?
May you, the Lord, have mercy on me,
And with your patient urging,
Help me to produce the fruits of love.