A Poet’s Faith

In some rich soil
I at last may sow
A seed created from the foil
Of striving to know
Where stands the hidden
Wisdom tree
That is bidden
Only to Poetry.

For not by chance
Comes God to men
With the blossomed branch
And the charmed pen.
Not by desire
At a brazen shrine
But by a trouble-lighted fire
Are words born divine.