Poetry

Tomorrow is Easter. April is also National Poetry month. In celebration of both, I thought I would share one of my favorite poems by Amy Carmichael, a missionary to India at the turn of the twentieth century. Her love for India and her devotion to the homeless children there changed lives forever.

Thy John

As John upon his dear Lord's breast,
So would I lean, so would I rest;
As empty shell in depths of sea,
So would I sink, be filled with Thee.

As water-lily in her pool
Through long, hot hours is still and cool,
A thought of peace, so I would be
Thy water-flower, Lord, close by Thee.

As singing bird in high, blue air,
So would I soar, and sing Thee there;
Nor rain, nor stormy wind can be
When all the air is full of Thee.

And so though daily duties crowd,
And dust of earth, be like a cloud,
Through noise of words, O Lord, my Rest,
Thy John would lean upon Thy breast.