564 <br /> <br />My period had come for Prayer— <br />No other Art—would do— <br />My Tactics missed a rudiment— <br />Creator—Was it you? <br /> <br />God grows above—so those who pray <br />Horizons—must ascend— <br />And so I stepped upon the North <br />To see this Curious Friend— <br /> <br />His House was not—no sign had He— <br />By Chimney—nor by Door <br />Could I infer his Residence— <br />Vast Prairies of Air <br /> <br />Unbroken by a Settler— <br />Were all that I could see— <br />Infinitude—Had'st Thou no Face <br />That I might look on Thee? <br /> <br />The Silence condescended— <br />Creation stopped—for Me— <br />But awed beyond my errand— <br />I worshipped—did not "pray"—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-period-had-come-for-prayer/
