DuBose Heyward: Verses about Faith

I saw you pray today
Out in the park—
Poor little storm-driven
Child of the dark.

Body to earth you lay
On the young grass,
Learning the shining way
April may pass.

I saw the clear song
Cardinals make
Brush your face tangibly,
Like wind on the lake.

Then, in the hedge
Where japonicas grew,
A little breeze was born,
Boyish and new.

I saw it find you
And rustle your name;
Lift you, and carry you
Like a slim flame

Out where the trees break,
Leaving wide skies.
Now I see always
The prayer in your eyes.