Poetry

 Sometimes I tremble like a storm-swept flower, 
And seek to hide my tortured soul from thee.
 
Bowing my head in deep humility 
Before the silent thunder of thy power.
 
Sometimes I flee before thy blazing light, 
As from the specter of pursuing death; 
Intimidated lest thy mighty breath, 
Windways, will sweep me into utter night.
 
For oh, I fear they will be swallowed up-- 
The loves which are to me of vital worth, 
My passion and my pleasure in the earth-- 
And lost forever in thy magic cup! 
I fear, I fear my truly human heart 
Will perish on the altar-stone of art!

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