By Philip Gray

Since you have been intimate with God,

Have you not been the quiet reed

Swaying above the waters by the shore?

Since you have laid your breast

Upon the breast of God, your lover,

Have you not become

The spread of windless silk upon the sea?

Since you have beheld white poems

Swung for scarves

To cover His white shoulders,

Have you not been more in love

With your own soul?

And has not Peace

Kneeled gently by your knee?

Say, are you not transfigured,

Comrade of my dearest hours?

Are you not a God?

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