Whatever great Perceptor reads our metered (timed and timeless) needs, O, may he clock your day and date to always Early, never Late. With hands of Earth and soul of Sky, may he let sandgrains slowly by, while tuning to perfection's art the dear precision of your heart.
For you are miracle, by bent
and mold a holy instrument,
designed creatively to bear
love to the earth in music where
there's - O, there's need!m . . . Whatever great Perceptor stands to orchestrate the tempo of your day and date, keep Morning, twenty after Eight!