I found this poem by Czeslaw Milosz on Dreadnought, and as I read it resonated so much that I said: "I want this too!" I have it, as a beginning, with a couple of friends, but I want it with the depth of desire expressed here:
Veni, Creator (1961)
Come, Holy Spirit,
bending or not bending the grasses,
appearing or not above our heads in a tongue of flame
as they harvest or when they plow in the orchards or when snow
covers crippled firs in the Sierra Nevada.
I am only a man: I need visible signs.
I tire easily, building the stairway of abstraction.
Many a time I asked, you know it well, that the statue in the church
lift its hand, only once, just once, for me.
But I understand that signs must be human,
Therefore call one man, anywhere on earth, not me — after all I have some decency —
And allow me, when I look at him, to marvel at you.
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