I am your reed, sweet shepherd, glad to be.
Now, if you will, breathe out your joy in me
And make bright song.
Or fill me with the soft moan of your love
When your delight has failed to call or move
The flock from wrong.
Make children's songs, or any songs, to fill
Your reed with breath of life;
But at your will, lay down the flute,
And take repose, while music infinite
Is silence in your heart; and laid on it
Your reed is mute.
All that matters is to be at one
with the living God
to be a creature in the house of the God of Life.
Like a cat asleep on a chair
at peace, in peace . . .
feeling the presence of Peace
like a great assurance
a deep calm in the heart
a presence
as of the master sitting at the board
in his own and great being
in the house of life.