Classic Poem

This is not God — this shape, this wood
With its eyes adream, its placid mood.
For God is alive, awake, aware,
Somehow or where I sense His infinite care.
This is not God, — this body, this head,
God is not passionless, unresponsive, dead!

This is not God — this image of fear,
Set in the heavens so cold, so drear.
For I feel His breath on my burning face,
I lean back breathless in his strong embrace.
I can die unafraid, as I live at peace
In my new-found trust, my sorrow's surcease.

This is my God — this pulsing, creative Life
Which makes me akin to all ages of strife;
This Infinite Power which nerves and inspires
Me with visions of hope, and pours its fires
Into my waiting will to lighten my load.
Life, Power, Love — here I find God!