So be it, God, I take what Thou dost give,
And gladly give what Thou dost take away.
For me Thy choice is barren days and grey.
Unquestioning Thy ordered days I live,
I do not seek to sift in Reason's sieve -
Thou rangest far beyond our Reason's sway.
We are but poor, uncomprehending clay,
For Thou to mould as Thou dost well conceive.
But when my blanched days of sorrow end,
And this poor clay for funeral is drest,
Then shall my soul to Thy Gold Gate ascend,
Then shall my soul soar up and summon Thee
To tell me why. And as Thou answerest,
So shall I judge Thee, God, not Thou judge me.
Leslie Coulson's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Judgment by Leslie Coulson )
- The Holy Cross of Jesus Christ, Dr John Celes
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.31, Monk E. Biz
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.30, Monk E. Biz
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.29, Monk E. Biz
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.28, Monk E. Biz
- A profession, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.27, Monk E. Biz
- 'Not mine', Elena Sandu
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.26, Monk E. Biz
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.25, Monk E. Biz
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