14 Oct Three Wisdoms
Posted at 16:32h
in Poems
I
Earth is a deed and not intention, so good be done and not be dreamed.
Do good where God has placed your lot, in ev’ry thread and ev’ry stitch of life.
Under a heaven infinite, is not your place the center of Earth?
The distant and difficult are deceptive. Your fate is where you are.
Eden springs from the earth where its rivers rise beneath your feet.
To find the air and water refreshing, quickened more by morning walks and evening strolls –
Enthralled by stars at night, elated over wildflowers spring produced, and nests of birds in fall –
Existence shall reward a simple nature, much as most simple, sheer, and holy God.
So these delicate strings that fold the world play beautiful notes in eager men’s observing them.
The notes all bend and reach beyond the days and nights of life and up to heaven’s rest.
Where light belongs, we lift our eyes with hope dignant for shared lights by the day.
Our God of lights ignites the dawn and sparks the souls of men, and this we call our will.
Our days contain enough of light and man enough of will for virtues and acts of love prepared before.
Not enough to enjoy our friends, sleep sufficiently, think our thoughts –
Nor read our books, play with children, and finish work –
Only enough remains to be patient, forgive, to light a candle meant to burn tomorrow morn.
II
To fall and fall more in a fallen world amounts to wind, to vapor – nothings and naughts.
The road is long, and what I seek is far away, and I will rise again a little while yet.
I shun the comforts, drinking full on these, my dreads and fears with joy.
Joy may fall like rain on Earth, and joy can reign with peace in mindful hearts.
But joy is merit, virtues earned and chosen, gifts by grace but not as grace.
Earn the joy of the summit climbing up the first bend of the mountain bluff –
This is how God desires us to struggle, with joy.
Happy the harvester waiting long upon seasons!
Sowers delight as much to sow as reapers delight to reap.
The fading Earth renews but I, and only I, will fade with seasons past.
I may revisit woods of childhood gone, but cannot revisit childhood gone in those woods.
The leaves cannot be placed upon the tree once they have fallen, winter comes.
But spring will make all things anew.
So like the leaves, burning brilliant shades their final days upon the branch, I shine as I, too, wane.
III
To be, to know I am, and then to love, these are not illusions. Else am I a fool, but this is wisdom old.
The oldest wisdoms – Father, Son, and Holy Ghost – have made and known and loved the world.