The Evidence Of Him

I see no awe in the awfulness of God.
Death is but an instant-
And the riddle solved!
Life is but an instant in which to question.
I see no awe in this. His works are before me
Unincumbered of complications.
I may hear the din of thunder
With no feeling of kinship, yet I have seen
A dawn upon a roseate cheek,
And read conviction. I have encompassed God
In the pith of a flower,
Have heard Him in the call of some woodling.
There are manifold symbols
Which my soul may beget. They are the seed
Of surety. Awe inspires me not-
But the gentleness of God is mysterious,
A sweet potion to the soul which drinks
Contritely a common communion.