In the Wheat ~ Songs in your Presence


We had all the order
of the Parthenon
within those walls,
for You hewed
into our dimensions
the pillars
of Your presence.

How could we have ever seen
that our poor yellow bricks
were crumbling?


How could I with all my boyish energy
be so allured by the sacred
were it not for You
Whom one day I found
like a fawn lying in the wheat—
and on the spot vowed
to adopt and keep You
in a hidden solitude.


We lived with You in deep ravines
of recollection and silence
while the rhythmic traffic of the day
circled on ledges at heights far removed,
and the sun would find its way
into our clearing through quivering leaves
to where we celebrated being one with You
without fearing the slightest intrusion.


We prayed best without words—
It was as though we were kneeling there
gazing into a pool which was Your circle
feeling ourselves being drawn in
and brushing lightly against You
in gentle circling motion
without causing the slightest ripple.

And weren't we at silent prayer
when we stood there looking up
at the Indiana sky
where hawks and buzzards
showed us how to fly, to lift up
to test the boundlessness
where everywhere Your presence was
by winging in its vastness
on pinioned thrusts
up to space's ceiling
and around Your sacred heights
searching for You as prey
swooping, curving, thrusting high
when You came near,
so as to touch Your wing
then knowing You behind,
fixing on us, chasing us
in playful, passionate pursuit.
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