God in Woman
‘Now must I search until I have found my God - Not in an orphanage. He hides In no humanitarian disguise, A derelict upon a barren bog; But in some fantastical ordinary incog: Behind a well-wrapped convent girl’s eyes, Or wrapped in middle-class felicities Among the women of the coffee-shop. Surely my God is feminine, for Heaven Is the generous impulse, is contented With feeding praise to the good. And all Of these that I havve known have come from women. While men the poet’s tragic light resented, The spirit that is Woman caressed his soul.
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