God's Grandeur

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.           

  It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; 

  It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil   

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?          

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;            

  And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;           

  And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil      

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.         

And for all this, nature is never spent;  

  There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;        

And though the last lights off the black West went        

  Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs— 

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent  

  World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

                                                                                Gerard Manley Hopkins

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It is just a road

Just a drive back home

But as I wind through the canyons and hills

And see the snow covered mountains

The somber green of the firs

Broken by the brilliant Gold of the Tamaracks

As I see the light

Glittering off the winding waters

The toil of life

And the heavy imprint of humanity

And human

Hate

And anger

And fear

Slowly fades

And one can only

Sense the Spirit

Of God

Bending

And embracing!