Pursued by Truth
 |
| Miner, Kentucky 1946 |
There is dirt
beneath
God’s fingernails.
He is
a hard worker,
knows
when to work,
when to rest.
He mines
the dark corners
of my soul.
At the end
of a day
He emerges,
hands full
of blackness.
I avert my eyes-
though some
of it is my creation.
of it is my creation.
God never
approaches
all at once,
with everything.
He knows
I would die,
of sorrow.
What is more,
I am the foreman
I am the foreman
of my soul,
(if I am cowardly).
At times I insist
that God return
what He has found.
It can be too much.
When I lose
courage
He waits,
feet up,
smoking
a corncob pipe
and whistling.
God is a miner
I would buy
stock in,
stock in,
he is gentle
and does not
mine junk.
and does not
mine junk.
He doesn’t blow
the tops off
majestic mountains.
majestic mountains.
Darkness is darkness.
But this is the God
who turned
a bloody death
into salvation.
a bloody death
into salvation.
When He mines
darkness,
it turns to gold.
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