The sweetest submission I now know is this: To bow before his gentle forehead kiss. “Wives, submit to your husbands, as to the Lord…Husbands, love

"An Active and Imaginative Life"
The sweetest submission I now know is this: To bow before his gentle forehead kiss. “Wives, submit to your husbands, as to the Lord…Husbands, love
I know my feet are prone to slip, unsure, So I play it again: Alleluia. And I know my hands may strike without measure, So
I worked on this sonnet throughout Holy Week but, as my organist schedule would have it, did not have a chance to revise and publish
Horrors.There is no other wordFor the things I have seen,And sat helplessly by—Useless. My own son, ripped from my armsBy a force I could not
Touch me, someone,That I might know you’re there! Greet me, anyone,So I am not aloneIn this dark, dark, darkness. I am begging,Begging for more than
I cannot tellWhat these gestures mean.Why do you all waveYour hands at me? I can only guess atThe words on your lipsAnd can only makeVain attemptsTo