Poem March 21, 1994 Issue

Clouds

(Matthew 17:5)

Stanley W. Hurst

When thunderclouds appear
I think of man.
Not man of mortal mist,
Born of cold ground.
I recall the "bright cloud,"
Wherein God's voice was heard
Declaring His loved Son
The object of His pleasure.
By that Word
I find God's perfect man,
The spiritual idea
Christ came to prove,
Immune from passing thunder,
Who in Love does live and move.

Then fearful mists of earth
Drift and dissolve
In warming presence
Of God's changeless love.

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