Silent Marvel

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Silent Marvel

Poem

Oh how many raptures crowd Thy spaces,
How much beauty will you drench in an hour?
What variety of felicities will you then pour
Carelessly in these blinded alleyways?

O Silent Marvel, how much ink I draw from night
To letter everyday my passions of Thee,
In ode and in idyll a note for memory
To catch perchance a future traveller’s sight.

Let them wonder of this our dalliance,
Our blatant trysts absolved of all limit,
Our flights over crest upon flaming crest,
The whirling zest of soul and spirit dance.

From a hundred forms I see Thee peering,
The coloured plume, the many-hued feather,
The rose-bud all shy, the blue-lotus flower
And cool moon-face all softly shining.

Be glad O teary-eyed earth-born self,
In thy long winter is buried the spring,
Read now the bright augurs appearing
Banishing thy doubt and thy disbelief.

Be glad, He is here, there and everywhere,
Not a speck is but for His presence,
Such is the extent of His omnipresence
Hence yield and yield to His ascending stair.