A Sense of God

I caught the whereabouts of my soul

In the spring-fields of ethereal joy:

A lone persona’s radiant smile greeted me

As I grew enchanted by its irresistible will.

My mind was swept away by a tide imperious

In the portending hour of God:

My ecclesiastical sense died in ambush of the spirit;

I am now a captive of God’s everlasting sense.

My thoughts are empty of world’s enslaving ideals;

God’s own brood rules them now. 

I am past the twilight and slumber of life and how!

I walk armed of his might and illimitable puissance.

The Divine and I are forever bound to each;

He has crowded my solitude with his presence as much.