And where 'mid thunderous glooms great sunsets burn,
Vainly thou sought'st His shadow on sea and sky;
Or gazing up, at noontide, could'st discern
Only a neutral heaven's indifferent eye
And countenance austerely taciturn.
Yet whom thou soughtest I have found at last;
Neither where tempest dims the world below
Nor where the westering daylight reels aghast
In conflagrations of red overthrow:
But where this virgin brooklet silvers past,
And yellowing either bank the king-cups blow.
William Watson (1858 – 1935)
As usual, I'm having a busy week and a busy term and I am conscious of the need to still myself a bit and stop thinking and striving. This poem seemed to fit in with the theme of finding God in unexpected places, in simplicity and in peace.