My Period Had Come for Prayer

My period had come for Prayer—

No other Art—would do—

My Tactics missed a rudiment—

Creator—Was it you?

God grows above—so those who pray

Horizons—must ascend—

And so I stepped upon the North

To see this Curious Friend—

His House was not—no sign had He—

By Chimney—nor by Door

Could I infer his Residence—

Vast Prairies of Air

Unbroken by a Settler—

Were all that I could see—

Infinitude—Had'st Thou no Face

That I might look on Thee?

The Silence condescended—

Creation stopped—for Me—

But awed beyond my errand—

I worshipped—did not "pray"—