In the Wheat ~ Songs in Your Presence


You remained plain for us,
coarse and unprepared
even for the majesty of Haydn,
for You knew
we would have been blinded
had You thrust too much light
on us at once.


You saved us from the weight of art
that subjugates:
You saved us from
the severe Romanesque
the frilled Baroque spaces
and even from artful words
that might have infected us
and thrown us off course.

No, You subdued us
with Your presence,
by being there,
gentle as You were.


You were never mean with us—
other rules governed
than those of harshness.

When we thought
You might punish us
You never did,
and tears welled up
at feeling
what gentleness was.


We never cringed before You,
never felt the need to,
knowing You held us close
and would care for us
so closely tied to You
Who would be kind to us
no matter whatever
might come to pass.
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