The Presence of God
I see His blood upon the rose,
And in the stars the glory of His eyes;
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see His face in every flower;
The thunder, and the singing of the birds
Are but His voice; and, carven by His power,
Rocks are His written words.
All pathways by His feet are worn;
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea;
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn;
His cross is every tree.
Joseph Mary Plunkett
