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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521687" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Obscure Sense Of The Presence Of God</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521687" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I see how the evening sun lights<br>the high grass, trees shift in the gentle wind<br>and small brown birds flit between <br>outdoor tables as young women<br>reach for coffee cups<br>dropp sweet crumbs to the rough sidewalk, <br>to the birds. Intent on home-work, <br>office-work, they never look up <br>to see how the sky<br>deepens to darker hue; <br>how day will fade soon <br>and vermillion night set fire<br>to the seaward hills.<br> <br>The west wind will finally drive them in, <br>and the grateful birds will all fly away.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521687" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I see it all. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521687" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My old eyes know how this old world works, <br>how Your love lurks even in the weeds <br>that grow on the edge of the most<br>tended garden; hides in the cries of<br>the grieving mourning dove; <br>falls like rain in the tender, <br>moonless night.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Steven+Federle">Steven Federle</a></strong></div>

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