The
Garments
Of God
By
Jessica Powers
(Died August 18, 1988)
God sits
on a chair of darkness in my soul.
He is God
alone, supreme in His majesty.
I sit at
His feet, a child in the dark beside Him;
my joy is
aware of His glance and my sorrow is tempted
to nest
on the thought that His face is turned from me.
He is
clothed in the robes of His mercy, voluminous
garments
–
no velvet
or silk and affable to the touch,
but
fabric strong for a frantic hand to clutch,
and I
hold to it fast with the fingers of my will.
Here is
my cry of faith, my deep avowal
to the
Divinity that I am dust.
Here is
the loud profession of my trust.
I need
not go abroad
to the
hills of speech or the hinterlands of music
for a
crier to walk in my soul where all is still.
I have
this potent prayer through good or ill:
Here in
the dark, I clutch the garments of God.
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