i am a little church
i am a little church by E. E. Cummings
i am a little church (no great cathedral) far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities- i do
not worry if briefer days grow briefest, i am not sorry when sun and rain make april my life is
the life of the reaper and the sower; my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying) children whose any sadness or joy is my grief or
my gladness around me surges a miracle of unceasing birth and glory and death and
resurrection: over my sleeping self float flaming symbols of hope, and i wake to a perfect
patience of mountains i am a little church (far from the frantic world with its rapture and
anguish) at peace with nature -i do not worry if longer nights grow longest; i am not sorry
when silence becomes singing winter by spring, i lift my diminutive spire to merciful Him
Whose only now is forever: standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence (welcoming
humbly His light and proudly His darkness) .
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