Immanence: A Book of Verses

I COME in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on morning wings Of majesty, but I have set My Feet Amidst the delicate and bladed wheat That springs triumphant in the furrowed sod. There do I dwell, in weakness and in power; Not broken or divided, saith our God! In your strait garden plot I come to flower: About your porch My Vine Meek, fruitful, doth entwine; Waits, at the threshold. Love’s appointed hour.

I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Yea! on the glancing wings Of eager birds, the softly pattering feet Of furred and gentle beasts, I come to meet Your hard and wayward heart. In brown bright eyes That peep from out the brake, I stand confest. On every nest Where feathery Patience is content to brood And leaves her pleasure for the high emprize Of motherhood — There doth My Godhead rest.

1 come in the little things, Saith the Lord: My starry wings I do forsake, Love’s highway of humility to take: Meekly I fit my stature to your need. In beggar’s part About your gates I shall not cease to plead- As man, to speak with man — Till by such art I shall achieve My Immemorial Plan, Pass the low lintel of the human heart.