He whom I bow to only knows to whom I bow
When I attempt the ineffable Name, muttering Thou,
And dream of Pheidian fancies and embrace in heart
Symbols (I know) which cannot be the thing Thou art.
Thus always, taken at their word, all prayers blaspheme
Worshipping with frail images a folk-lore dream,
And all men in their praying, self-deceived, address
The coinage of their own unquiet thoughts, unless
Thou in magnetic mercy to Thyself divert
Our arrows, aimed unskillfully, beyond desert;
And all men are idolators, crying unheard
To a deaf idol, if Thou take them at their word.
Take not, oh Lord, our literal sense. Lord, in Thy great,
Unbroken speech our limping metaphor translate.
4 comments
Jim E says:
Mar 5, 2012
Intercede, translate, descramble and forgive our pitiful prayers, o Lord. Amen!
Rick says:
Feb 15, 2021
“What’s next Papa? God’s Spirit ( Big S) touches our spirits ( little s) and confirms who we really are.”8… God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along.”
Peterson The Message/ reading over Romans 8.
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