Volume > Issue > Praise

Praise

A POEM

By Lorraine Bochler Eshleman | July August 1986

Oh endless pattern in the trees.

You weave a world for me

Of endless beauty, endless art,

Of endless mystery.

 

You are a symphony, a stage,

A master’s work of art.

You have no words, still all you say

Lies deepest in my heart.

 

Oh God, Your hand is everywhere —

Your stroke against the sky

Outlines a joy that breaks my heart

And begs my spirit fly.

 

It beckons me and beckons me

And wounds me with its glee,

And I will worship You, Great God,

’Til moons shall part the sea.

Enjoyed reading this?

READ MORE! REGISTER TODAY

SUBSCRIBE

You May Also Enjoy

A Poet under the Mercy

Many of Vanauken’s poems are reminiscent of Browning, Donne, the early Charles Williams, and others, in style, tone, and theme.

Processional (upon seeing Dürer’s woodcut of Roswitha)

By Dürer’s hand, I saw her kneeling down

Before the Emperor: Roswitha — she

Who…

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

I spent the night — I could not get to sleep —

In counting out…