On Leaving Port

From Sharon, CTH

Child of My love, lean hard,

And let me feel the pressure of thy care;

I know thy burden, child. I shaped it;

Poised it in Mine Own hand; made no proportion

In its weight to thine unaided strength,

For even as I laid it on, I said,

“I shall be near, while he leans on Me,

This burden shall be Mine, not his;

So shall I keep My child within the circling arms

Of My Own love.” Here lay it down, nor fear

To impose on a shoulder which upholds

The government of worlds. Yet closer come:

So I might feel My child reposing on my breast.

Thou lovest Me?

I knew it.

Doubt not then; but loving Me, lean hard.