I long to talk with some old lover’s ghost,
Who died before the god of love was born.– John Donne, “Love’s Deity”
The Heathen’s God
A heathen am I, doubtful of that God
That rules this barren world, this kingdom cold.
I shirk the path that countless saints have trod
And choose instead the misty path of old,
Far more antique than any deity
But Love, whose wisdom’s older than the world.
Though shadowed is this path, and hard to see
The steps ahead, I sight Love’s flag unfurled.
Somewhere within the mist, I feel your hand
Reach out across the road, and capture mine.
We move together through this shadowed land
And towards Eternity’s love-fevered shine.
When ends this road, my thoughts are proven true:
No Heaven but Your kiss—no God but You.
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