In shops, on streets, in random places

A light within me lights these faces.

I see them glance, and hear, and nod,

And each face is a word of God.

Briefly and casually He talks,

For all the language in His stock.

But this is Him: that eyes are eyes,

That flesh is flesh is His disguise

And His alone. What is so fine

And costly can’t be yours or mine.