The Secret Splendour

Paradox

The illimitable chamber of the soul

Opens but through a little door of clay,

And if God wills to find a passage there

 He must go moving in a mortal way.

Though he should bring a light that has no bound,

To fill the large and leisurely soul-space,

Yet He can only enter with a love

Whose beauty aureoles a human face.

Omnipotence unfathomably far

The soul's gigantic room of hush demands;

But the frail door of body vigils, waiting

God's pressure through enamoured earthly hands.

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