(Greece, 06-08-09)
I prayed, at first, a little Girl,
Because they told me to --
But stopped, when qualified to guess
How prayer would feel -- to me --
If I believed God looked around,
Each time my Childish eye
Fixed full, and steady, on his own
In Childish honesty --
And told him what I'd like, today,
And parts of his far plan
That baffled me --
The mingled side
Of his Divinity --
And often since, in Danger,
I count the force 'twould be
To have a God so strong as that
To hold my life for me
Till I could take the Balance
That tips so frequent, now,
It takes me all the while to poise --
And then -- it doesn't stay --
~ Emily Dickinson ~
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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
~ William Butler Yeats ~