More Prayers

Show al 138 prayers
Carl Sandburg  May Sarton

LEW SARETT

WIND IN THE PINE

Oh, I can hear you, God, above the cry

Of the tossing trees—

Rolling your windy tides across the sky,

And splashing your silver seas

Over the pine,

To the water-line

Of the moon.

Oh, I can hear you, God,

Above the wail of the lonely loon—

When the pine-tops pitch and nod—

Chanting your melodies

Of ghostly waterfalls and avalanches,,

Washing your wind among the branches

To make them pure and white.

Wash over me, God, with your piney breeze,

And your moon’s wet-silver pool;

Wash over me, God, with your wind and night,

And leave me clean and cool.