EMILY BRONTE TO HER ABSENT GOD


"As a dog howls at the door

of his dead master's room,

so I stand at the gates of empty Heaven

and howl at the moon.


"In each harebell's leaf, each flower,

in every crag and stone

once I sought You out and found You

who am now alone.


"Foolish game of hide-and-seek!

Do you hope to escape me so--

You, who are more myself than I,

turn stranger now?


"Though You swell up, infinitely huge,

shrink down, minutely small,

I shall seize hawk wings and soar,

turn nothing at all,


"strip off these rags of earth and air--

of body, mind, and breath--

and that which I have lost in life

hunt down in death."



 Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie