I sleep, but my heart is waking. It is the sound of my Beloved that knocks, saying, Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled. For My head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.
Rise up, cry out in the night at the head of the watches; pour out your heart like waters before the face of the Lord. Lift up your palms to Him for the life of your children who are faint with hunger at the head of every outside place.