[lit-ideas] For the little ones...

  • From: Ursula Stange <Ursula@xxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Thu, 15 Jun 2006 08:06:50 -0400

                        by Jan Struthers

  Though God in seven days
  The world and all its ways
Once for his own delight did fashion truly,
  Yet every man alive
  Must through his senses five
     Create it newly.

  No beauty dwells on earth
  Till eyes do give it birth;
No rock, no stone, till a hand's touch bring concreteness;
  Fragrance, till breath be near;
  Music, till listening ear
     Draw forth its sweetness.

  And you, my little god,
  Whose rosy feet have trod
But seven days' distance from your own day's breaking,
  You, in my arms close curled,
  Tell me, what kind of world
     Have you been making?

  These things your treasures be-
  Low voices' harmony;
The comfortable rhythm of the hours;
  Kind warmth, surprising light,
  Food, and the nodding, bright,
     Blurred shapes of flowers.

  Here dwells no hurt nor harm,
  Nor any worse alarm
Than the small stupendous sound of your own sneezing:
  Wise though he be, and great,
  Could God himself create
     A world more pleasing?

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