Windows

Is it not the sun, I say, rebounding,
Casting light and warmth upon my face,
As panes of glass do shine with light confounding,
Mine eyes which seek thy preferential grace?

Or could this be that colored crystal wall,
Whence benefice of God is filtered through,
To children reading blessings of Saint Paul,
And hand clasped men who pray in yonder pew?

In thine angelic eyes, my dear, I see,
That glow I beg my passion to console,
With thanks to Him who grants me this decree:
They shall provide a window to thy soul.

My love, upon this path, may we begin?
Please lead me to thy bounteous heart within.

- Scott Alexander McKenzie