God! -- What a forsaken place, Nothing but trees, Ghost trees, scrub oak And rugged pine, With an awful stillness everwhere, No sound but the wind As it swipes the bark Of naked limbs, And I am alone, Alone In this God's great wilderness, Alone! I looked at the stars, Oh, the world seemed small, I stooped to drink at the brook And the white-faced moon Laughed, -- laughed at me In its depths; Yet I am brave, -- still I shuddered, -- It was the skull of the Universe Leering at me, At me! God! -- What a forsaken place, Hell's heaven to this, There's a jagged knife in my back Tearing my soul, And no man is near; 'Tis fear, Damnable fear; Fear of the Silence, Of the great immensity Of nothingness; My fear. Yes, -- this is God's wilderness; Why did I leave the beaten path? Venturesome fool that I am, Even the trees take shape And taunt me; What's that you say Yon crooked, gnarled oak? God has no wilderness Save in my heart And in the hearts of men Like me. God has no wilderness Save in my heart? If this be true Then am I indeed a fool; I looked again at the stars And they sang, They sang to me, And the moon smiled And kissed my eyes, And lo! the gnarled oak Was God! |