Poems About (the Desire For) God By Emily Dickinson

God is a distant - stately Lover -
Woos, as he states (to) us - by His Son -
Verily, a Vicarious courtship -
"Miles", and "Priscilla", were such an One

But, lest the Soul - like fair "Priscilla"
Choose the Envoy - and spurn the Groom -
Vouches with hyperbolic archness -
"Miles" and "John Alden" were Synonym -

Truth - is as old as God -
His Twin identity
And will endure as long as He
A Co-Eternity -

And perish on the Day
Himself is borne away
From Mansion of the Universe
A lifeless Deity

God made no act
without a cause,
Nor heart without
an aim,
Our inference is premature,
Our premises to blame.

"Remember Me" implored the Thief -
Oh Magnanimity!
My Visitor in Paradise
I give the guaranty.

That Couresy will fair remain
When the delight is Dust
With which we cite this mightiest case
Of compensated Trust.

Of All, we are allowed to hope
But Affidavit stands
That this was due, where some, we fear,
Are unexpected friends -

My period had come for Prayer -
No other Art -- would do --
My Tactics missed a rudiment -
Creator -- Was it you?

God grows above - so those who pray
Horizons - must ascend -
And so I stepped upon the North
To see this Curious Friend -

His House was not - no sign had He -
By Chimney - nor by Door
Could I infer his Residence -
Vast Prairies of Air

Unbroken by a Settler --
Were all that I could see --
Infinitude - Had'st Thou no Face
That I might look on Thee?

The Silence condescended -
Creation stopped -- for Me -
But awed beyond my errand -
I worshipped -- did not "pray" -

Recollect the Face of me
When in thy Felicity,
Due in Paradise today
Guest of mine assuredly -

Other Courtesies have been -
Other Courtesy may be -
We commend ourselves to thee
Paragon of Chivalry.

It was too late for Man -
But early, yet, for God -
Creation - impotent to help -
But Prayer - remained - Our Side

How excellent the Heaven -
When Earth - cannot be had -
How hospitable - then - the face
Of our Old Neighbor - God -

Victory comes late -
And is held low to freezing lips -
Too rapt with frost
To take it -
How sweet it would have tasted -
Just a Drop -
Was God so economical?
His Table's spread too high for Us -
Unless We dine on tiptoe -
Crumbs -- fit such little mouths -
Cherries -- suit Robbins --
The Eagle's Golden Breakfast strangles -- Them -
God keep His Oath to Sparrows -
Who of little Love -- know how to starve -

It's easy to invent a Life -
God does it -- every Day -
Creation -- but the Gambol
Of His Authority -

It's easy to efface it -
The thrifty Deity
Could scarce afford Eternity
To Spontaneity -

The Perished Patterns murmur -
But His Perturbless Plan
Proceed -- inserting Here -- a Sun -
There -- leaving out a Man -

Always Mine!
No more Vacation!
Term of Light this Day begun!
Failless as the fair rotation
Of the Seasons and the Sun.

Old the Grace, but new the Subjects --
Old, indeed, the East,
Yet upon His Purple Programme
Every Dawn, is first.