OMNIPRESENCE

What are the great pine boughs

That stretch over me so lovingly

Shielding me from the heat?

They are the sheltering arms of God,

Visible

Against white drifting clouds.

And the trailing white clouds,—

What are they?

They are the tattered, worn-out clothes,

Bordered with broken pearls,

Cast off by the angels and archangels,

And by God himself.