To the little, pitiful God I make my prayer, <br />The God with the long grey beard <br />And flowing robe fastened with a hempen girdle <br />Who sits nodding and muttering on the all-too-big throne <br /> of Heaven. <br />What a long, long time, dear God, since you set the <br /> stars in their places, <br />Girded the earth with the sea, and invented the day and <br /> night. <br />And longer the time since you looked through the blue <br /> window of Heaven <br />To see your children at play in a garden.... <br />Now we are all stronger than you and wiser and more <br /> arrogant, <br />In swift procession we pass you by. <br />"Who is that marionette nodding and muttering <br />On the all-too-big throne of Heaven? <br />Come down from your place, Grey Beard, <br />We have had enough of your play-acting!" <br /> <br /> It is centuries since I believed in you, <br />But to-day my need of you has come back. <br />I want no rose-coloured future, <br />No books of learning, no protestations and denials-- <br />I am sick of this ugly scramble, <br />I am tired of being pulled about-- <br />O God, I want to sit on your knees <br />On the all-too-big throne of Heaven, <br />And fall asleep with my hands tangled in your grey <br /> beard.<br /><br />Katherine Mansfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-god-the-father/
