Sun Poems: 12 / 500

A Prayer In Darkness

Rating: 3.2

This much, O heaven—if I should brood or rave,
Pity me not; but let the world be fed,
Yea, in my madness if I strike me dead,
Heed you the grass that grows upon my grave.

If I dare snarl between this sun and sod,
Whimper and clamour, give me grace to own,
In sun and rain and fruit in season shown,
The shining silence of the scorn of God.

Thank God the stars are set beyond my power,
If I must travail in a night of wrath,
Thank God my tears will never vex a moth,
Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower.

Men say the sun was darkened: yet I had
Thought it beat brightly, even on—Calvary:
And He that hung upon the Torturing Tree
Heard all the crickets singing, and was glad.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
The Truth 06 August 2018

Poem Hunter is the most boring poetry site on the net.

2 3 Reply
Mahtab Bangalee 06 August 2018

excellent stanza and writings- Thank God the stars are set beyond my power, If I must travail in a night of wrath, Thank God my tears will never vex a moth, Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower. great

4 0 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 06 August 2018

Let the world be fed! ! With the muse of the truth. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

1 2 Reply
Ruta Mohapatra 06 August 2018

'Thank God my tears will never vex a moth, Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower'............Beautiful thought!

2 0 Reply
Melissa Patty 07 March 2016

Very well put together, loved how the poem flowed, Well done!

2 0 Reply
Mahtab Bangalee 06 August 2020

Thank God the stars are set beyond my power, If I must travail in a night of wrath, Thank God my tears will never vex a moth, Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower........beautiful prayer, thankfulness and gratefulness to God; beautiful poem articulated; pleasure to read

0 0 Reply
Deepak Kumar Pattanayak 06 August 2020

This is very inspiring indeed and so beautifully scripted touches my heart......10++

0 0 Reply
Dr. Antony Theodore 06 August 2020

in my madness if I strike me dead, Heed you the grass that grows upon my grave. If I must travail in a night of wrath, Thank God my tears will never vex a moth, Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower. fill the heart with love and not with hatred. tony

0 0 Reply
Chinedu Dike 08 November 2019

Well articulated and nicely brought forth with spiritual insight. Thanks for sharing.

1 0 Reply
Ratnakar Mandlik 06 August 2019

" The shining silence of the scorn of God" An out standing conceptualization worthy of selection as classic poem of the Day.

1 0 Reply