by Donald Williams
When the fog obscures the outlines of the trees
But breaks to show the sharpness of the stars,
And the blood feels sudden chill although the breeze
Is warm, and all the old internal scars
From stabbing beauty start to ache anew;
When mushrooms gather in a fairy ring
And every twig and grass-blade drips with dew
And then a whippoorwill begins to sing;
When all the world beside is hushed, awaiting
The sun as if it were his first arising
And you discover that, anticipating,
You’ve held your breath, and find the fact surprising;
Then all the old internal wounds awake.
The pain is sweet we bear for beauty’s sake.
Donald T. Williams, PhD, is Pastor of Trinity Fellowship
Evangelical Free Church in Toccoa, Ga., and Professor of English, Toccoa
Falls College. Author of The Person and Work of the Holy Spirit
(Nashville: Boradman, 1994), Inklings of Reality: Essays toward a Christian Philosophy of Letters (Toccoa, GA.:Toccoa Falls College Press, 1996), and The Disciple’s Prayer (Camp Hill, PA: Christian Publications, 1999).