His hands so gently strong embrace his son,
Unseeing eyes behold the depth of loss
Of youth and age and every painful cross --
So Rembrandt poured his being through his art.
	O God, as Rembrandt shared his soul and heart,
	Your Soul embrues through everything as One.
(No pagan godly cosmos here that finds
The final hope and answer for our life
In things and means evolved from natural strife;
	ÔTis not an autogenerated world
	Whose inner order on its own unfurled,
	But of Your holy mind beyond our minds.)
Your zootic force compels the null to being;
Without it there is neither form nor means --
Impossible would be humans and machines:
	O Jesus, You're the thread, the patterned tie --
	Photonic rigging guiding earth and sky --
	Our  Christ, the cause and source of our  perceiving.
What matters family, job or friend?		Via Negativa
O God, what matters preaching Sunday morn
Or e'en the blowing of the final horn?
But only if you will, those will be so:
	One thing alone to Jesus do we owe:
	To tend whatever God would have us tend.
For You from You we make machines to teach --	Via Positiva
	A hugh metallic ant, a star projector
	To show the public by a cosmic spector
	The Horseman made of a triple binary dance
	And Betelgeuse with a star inside its expanse --
And so extend Your revelation's reach.	
	Lilac purple side by side with dogwood white:	Via Creativa
From Your creative blooming dynamo --
Animating spirit that denies its foe --
Out of inert and shapeless elements,
We co-create superb developments:
	Threads of glass to carry sound and sight by light.
We're coming home, O Lord, right here and now	Via Transfomrativa
Into your sure unfailing open hands,
Unquestioned, naked, just as we can be
To stand under the freedom and commands
Of Yours arising from the world's debris.
	I have a vision of Your holy rule:
	A ring of light within the inner slum
	Of ports and ways for chances that will fuel
	Rebirth out of  a pand¾monium,
	Transformed: a light unto a darken world.
O God whose breathing breathes in all creation,
Through nature guide us  to divine elation.

©1994, John A. Mills