Morning Poem, February 18, 2017

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Thou holdest mine eyes awake: I am so troubled that I cannot speak.

I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times.

I call to remembrance my song in the night

I commune with mine own heart: and my spirit made diligent search.

Psalm 77: 4-6

He sat on the hill where the old school had been

And wondered at all the sad tokens

The obstacles, failures, losses and then

Every dream he had had that was broken

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He reached his hands toward the sky

In a questioning, wearied gesture

And gave up the ghost of his grasping pride

And tried his best to remember

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The songs and the poems, the wonderful words

That his teachers had constantly spoken

The gospel of freedom, of power and love

The life in the clear and the open

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Oh, where has it vanished, oh, how has it gone

The dream men have died to afford

And he looked to the ground where the school had once stood

And hoped once again in the Lord.

Copyright 2017