But something prevented them from recognising Him.
And I too. Do I look around me? Do I search for the truth?
I am walking with my granddaughter to the village churchyard’s rim.
Do I recognise Him in the tall beach trees on the village road? Our cathedral in spring youth.
Do I find Him in the scattering bracken sward? In the joyful daisy and dandelion.
Do I see Him in the chalk stream’s light shining shallow flow?
But He is here all around and in the little girl’s shadow grown by bright sun as large as any lion.
Do I listen to Him in my head and in girl’s skipping so slow?
Do I ask Him to abide with me?
I cannot break bread with Him now but I can inspiration find in this green leafed tree.
Can this grandfather’s age care dimmed eyes at last see?
He is here everywhere. In small girl’s chatter. In nature’s new life, in distant sea.
Does not my heart now burn within me in his talk.
Is He not also with me on this slow country walk.