Classic Poem

They say I am too familiar with God,
They say that I talk of God as if he lived next door,
They say that I use God's name as freely as if it was my name or my child's name or the name of my bosom friend:
I am accused of being on speaking terms with God,
I am taken to task for shaking hands with God and walking with him arm in arm:
They tell me that I have been known to contradict God just as if he might be wrong and I might be right
Well—I admit their charges. I admit that everything they bring up against me is true.
I think God and I are in pretty good feather with each other,
It seems to me God is even a good deal nearer to me than next door—
Oh! I could not tell you how much nearer—how much, how much:
Why, if I was to say he was as near as in my own house I would not near tell how near he is
God used to be shoved off somewhere in space, way off, so nobody could touch him,
The farther off he was the more God he was: the less he loved man the more man was to love him:
The priests retired him to the remotest distances and stood between and taxed men for interceding with the recluse.
I dont think I could have much use for God if he had no use for me,
I dont think I care about God if he must be far away and cannot be approached and consorted with,
I dont think I fancy God much if it takes somebody to introduce us,
I dont think God stands for what I need if he withdraws himself to impossible heavens,
Nothing will satisfy me but to have God next to me wherever I am,
Nothing will do for God but to be about things and in things whatever is happening.
I want to know just how and where to find God when I am hungry and thirsty for God:
God has held himself aloof long enough—has refused to make his earthbond good,
Now we want God to come down off his high horse and mix with the crowd
There are fool worshipers who are straining their eyes blind to see God making a show of himself on the mountain tops,
But I have better use for my sight—I see God at work in my own hands, too busy to hunt up the cross
I do not feel that I need to lift myself above my average foothold to reach God—
I stay where I am and find the secret disclosed in the open day.
The priests chant obeisances to God and address God in tones of awe,
I find my native tongue good enough to use with God—
Yes, I find that God understands me best when I speak a language I myself am at home with:
I would feel lonesome and ready to give up if I thought God was above being my companion—was my master giving commands.

Yes, God and I are well acquainted:
We do not need to be reminded of each other by introducers,
And what God does for me is too wonderful to be set down with figures in an argument,
And I do not question but that what I do for God is no insignificant item
There are fathers and mothers and children and they are very close to each other—oh! so close!
And there is the comrade, too—he is very close to his comrade: oh! so close!
But when I think of God and try to tell how that we are dear inseparable lovers, oh! words are too shabby to tell how close we are!

They say I am too familiar with God, but I dont hear God say so:
Do not worry, dear brothers—no one can be too familiar with God.
You can no longer put God away somewhere in a secret place—
In the barren years God was so far to the north his comfort was cold when it reached the heart,
Now God is the closest by: we do not need even to go into the next house to find him:
I have made God common to the commonest earth—he is the genius of every day and the crowd:
I have made God my brother where once I was told he was my ruler:
I have done this: do you not feel God and acknowledge his free providence?
They say I am too familiar with God!