by Jeffrey Essmann

Though we prefer Him in a sky
Of Technicolor blue with clouds
All cottony, all downy soft,
With angels hovering nearby,
His praises raising ever loud
In harmonies that soar aloft,
We never yet must quite forget
That it was in the desert bleak
Where first our souls with awe He filled.
In desert dryness deep we met,
Within its silence heard Him speak,
And there we meet and hear Him still.

Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, The Society of Classical Poets, Amethyst Review, Agape Review, America Magazine, U.S. Catholic, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Edge of Faith, Pensive, and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website.