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Poetry by Wycliffe Grad
Tuesday August 23rd, 2011
In Love With God
This love calls softly, like a dove at dusk
And yet its character has such great power,
With all the promise of a tiger spring.
And I, a pilgrim, hear and am afraid;
And yet in some deep place I never knew,
I know where rain comes and the smell of spring
Without perhaps clear focus of it all …
And suddenly, awareness, very still
As if this son of Adam ragged sat
Beside his grass-stained, tattered little tent
And joy walked in, with its own character,
As if my God came with the morning light
And sat to speak with me and call me friend.
So much with me and I so very small;
With poverty of stable and of cross.
I gave him room-space and I was not lost.
Completely His, yet uninvaded I
Was water, birdsong, flight and prayer and sigh.
Each in-breath, Lord Christ in; each out and then
His mercy settled on my sinner’s heart.
And then, for one brief moment fire and song
My clay, my poverty and I belong.
Fr. Ewan MacPherson
Wycliffe Class of 1978 – now living in Somerset, UK
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