Poem November 1, 1952 Issue

TRANSFORMATION

P. John A. Moore

Once a candle in the midnight
Of my heart was briefly lit:
Ere the tallow had burned low
Daylight had supplanted it.

As St. Paul, still breathing vengeance
On the old Damascus way.
Saw a vision that transformed him,
So my night was turned to day.

Seeking yet with worldly wisdom,
Victim sore of doubt and fear.
I then heard the calm assurance:
"Peace be with you. God is here!"

Now no midnight, now no sorrow.
Now no thoughts of hate or strife.
God is with me—and the gladness—
Now I know that God is Life!

P. John A. Moore

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