Sunder me from my bones, O sword of God 
Till they stand stark and strange as do the trees; 
That I whose heart goes up with the soaring woods 
May marvel as much at these. 

Sunder me from my blood that in the dark 
I hear that red ancestral river run 
Like branching buried floods that find the sea 
But never see the sun. 

Give me miraculous eyes to see my eyes 
Those rolling mirrors made alive in me 
Terrible crystals more incredible 
Than all the things they see 

Sunder me from my soul, that I may see 
The sins like streaming wounds, the life's brave beat 
Till I shall save myself as I would save 
A stranger in the street. 

Added: Apr 1 2005 | Viewed: 570 times | Comments (0)

Poet: G.K. Chesterton
Poem: The Sword of Suprise

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