Thursday, October 18, 2012

Letters and Other Poems 4



Today will be the best of all remaining,

And never will again another day tomorrow hold

The same brilliance of innocence and childhood,

As this day. So will tomorrow compare with all the years ahead.


For each was born upon the pinnacle of life

When in timeless bliss and the beauty of youth,

Ran in blameless and careless adorance of others and self

Far from the sorrows of the world’s daily life.


(Amen: accursed before God and men are they,

Who steal this earthly paradise from children

And as they stole these precious years from them,

With like measure will the devils, their masters, steal life eternal from them.)


Once he has felt the slip of time, he should

 Not worry, for with this foretaste of heaven in mind

And with the scent and sight of flowers in the sun impressed upon

The eye, all else in lower perfection comes easier.


Then do those precious years themselves in perfection

And boundless value grow, and this treasure

Unstealable and secure doth little increase or decrease

With the good and bad of a future that may never come.


And easily going down the hill of life

Each day passes as the golden shadow of that age,

Waning in distance, yet waxing in brightness

Makes each today the highest peak of all to come.


Then all these present moments equally perfect,

In holding that fleeting glow of the birthright of Man,

The child of God, doth the heart equally fill

With joy and expectation of return to that Eden.


Today I will eat my bread, and drink my cup

And delight in the gift now. I got it today, to use it

Today, and no other day, to eat and do and glorify,

And gain another step, another moment in my treasury.


I do not fear tomorrow, for it cannot fill me

When I am already filled with my steps upon the plains

Of heaven. It only beckons me with the time of no tomorrow

When I will run forever a little boy through the endless meadows of God.


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