Site by

John Ballard

  IN the lust of my strength
  I cursed God, but he paid no attention to me:
  I might as well have cursed the stars.
  In my last sickness I was in agony, but I was resolute
  And I cursed God for my suffering;
  Still He paid no attention to me;
  He left me alone, as He had always done.
  I might as well have cursed the Presbyterian steeple.
  Then, as I grew weaker, a terror came over me:
  Perhaps I had alienated God by cursing him.
  One day Lydia Humphrey brought me a bouquet
  And it occurred to me to try to make friends with God,
  So I tried to make friends with Him;
  But I might as well have tried to make friends with the bouquet.
  Now I was very close to the secret,
  For I really could make friends with the bouquet
  By holding close to me the love in me for the bouquet
  And so I was creeping upon the secret, but—