I wrote this abrupty last night,
The deepest shadows, echoes tell me only
To love You more, my Savior. And by you
I am told as well to love what is true
Among the dark and gentle locks I see.
Something was no less categorical
In her soul than verses in a black Book,
So then that day --'s hand I took
In purity as real as metaphorical.
It made me feel so happy to write it, as philosophical/logical poems like the above, which praise both God and His creations, are quite virtuous.