And Are We Still to Know?
A POEM
And are we still to know that thou art God?
The sea tells no mercy. Dark powers assail and drown us
unfathoming deeps, submerging stars.
In gathering terror our battered vessel groans
while hope and faith and thought of living fail —
into gales of devilish laughter tossed
and lost. My God, My God!
Shall we perish while you
in the eye of the storm
incredibly, sleep?
But still thou art whom all the waves obey;
a hush descends as gently as you rise.
Softspoken winds meek homage pay.
Under scattering dark we learn at last to trust
for signs that even quaking knees shall bow
and faltering tongues confess thee Prince
of Peace. Be still, my soul.
We shall yet live as stays
in the eye of the storm
incredibly, God.
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