Monday, April 10, 2017

Our Timeful Life

As I sit upon a riverbank, my thoughts to heaven turn
And inquiries begin to rise towards that final form:
I think on time, and middleness, and all that I might learn,
And I cannot help but lose my peace with this, our earthly norm.

I sit and watch some beetles skip across the water’s face:
They go from bank to riverbank, while picking their own pace.
Not so with us, poor members of the aging human race:
We are taken by the current. We may never keep our place.

This riverbed is beautiful, each inch a wondrous sight:
Bright pebbles, clay, and mighty trees (they’ve fallen from a height)
Are bathed in water endlessly; and bathed, by day, in light;
But we may never tarry here, no matter how we fight.

We fly by once, and once is all; that chance is all we’ll get;
Once chance to see this riverbank, and then the chance is spent.
But more than this (Much more than this!) is causing me to fret:
The other members of my race are quickly from me sent.

Like drifting leaves which travelling down the river touch and spin,
But seconds later come apart and new companions win:
Such are our lives (and this may even happen with your kin) --
And I’ve not yet begun to think about the state of sin.

This “in-between”, this flying-by -- this earth-life, if you please,
Is quite enough (Yes, quite enough) to bring me to my knees.
I look into the forest, and I see the varied trees;
I think of all the hidden things, our greatest mysteries.

The rosebush and the lilac; the rising, heavy oak;
The swaying weeping willow with its hidden inner nook;
The rising pine, whose needles shine, whose roots in river soak:
Only from above the riverbank can I now look.

To be plucked from out the river! To be given my own wings!
To search throughout the woodlands, and to hear the Crickets sing!
To know the fragrant flowers, and to the Planter bring
Reports of his creation! And to him closely cling!

To have my friends forever! To know fully my own wife!
To be free from sin -- to live within – with not a hint of strife!
To finally know the forest, within which wisdom’s rife!
This, oh this, my dearest friends, is to be Our Timeful Life.

Friends and Followers