Lie Thee Down, Oddity

The title of the poem, and some of the sense of it comes from T.F. Powys "Lie Thee Down, Oddity", which can be read here:

http://tonymusings.blogspot.com/2007/01/lie-thee-down-oddity.html

T.F. Powys was a mystical fabulist known for his unique tales in Dorset villages. I first came across this story in an anthology of writers called "Modern Short Stories" at school. I have since read "Mr Weston's Good Wine", "Fables", "God's Eye A Twinkle". His rural retelling of the Christmas story is one of the best I have ever read: https://tonymusings.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-gift.html

I have drawn on T.F. Powys, but in my own way, melding it with my own perceptions of the world and my own spirituality. 

Lie Thee Down, Oddity

Now lie thee down oddity, I'm wont to say
The still small voice that comes this day
It calls, insistently, will not silent be
Until it is acted upon by me
It comes with joy and yet with sorrow
Heals the past, brings hope for morrow
It comes sometime like wind in trees
Stirs the branches with its pleas
It calls to reach out loving hand
And calls across both sea and land
It speaks of world so brave and cruel
And stirs the waters of Siloam’s pool
It came in washing  my feet and toes
That washed away a hundred woes
It comes to me in wine and bread
And hearing word that must be said
It comes to me by day or night
And always shining ever bright
It is both the glory and the hope
For me when I cannot cope