By Jane Kenyon
I am the blossom pressed in a book,
found again after two hundred years... .
I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper... .
When the young girl who starves
sits down to a table
she will sit beside me... .
I am food on the prisoner's plate... .
I am water rushing to the wellhead,
filling the pitcher until it spills... .
I am the patient gardener
of the dry and weedy garden... .
I am the stone step,
the latch, and the working hinge... .
I am the heart contracted by joy... .
the longest hair, white
before the rest... .
I am there in the basket of fruit
presented to the widow... .
I am the musk rose opening
unattended, the fern on the boggy summit... .
I am the one whose love
overcomes you, already with you
when you think to call my name... .
Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; and he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. And there the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, 'I will turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.' When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, 'Moses, Moses!' And he said, 'Here I am.' Then God said, 'Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.' He then the Lord said 'I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.' And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.
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