The legions of the faithful outnumber those who won’t believe,
But what strange happenstance occurred to leave them in the dark?
Truth is, no thing or other can be saddled with the blame.
For every soul has been endowed, no craft required, no skill, no art.
Not science, not bad fostering, nor excess of precocity
Can er’ explain the fact that that notorious bat has left the brain.2
This sign of grace, along with love, should never be confused
With something we have earned, the fruit of justice well deserved.
For all the strife and diligence applied will prove to no avail,
Will never yield a drop of faith, or love, no matter what the ruse.
Marvelous our ability to reason, to imagine, reflect and understand,
Yet without external energy, the shadows in the cave prevail.
What power is this that cannot fit within our mother’s womb?
Some call it magnetism, some say it is the Holy Ghost.
By any name this power of attraction is the cause
Of all the greatest works that art and science can produce.
All other powers enter into play when energized
By this petitioned quality, the catalyst to set them loose.
If not solicited, then the conundrum remains.
Egg and chicken both need His permission to begin.
Faith must be desired, then expressed in supplication
Till hosts of inspiration enter in with cups a brim.
Hence all divine realities acquire authentication,
The mysteries unraveled by the watchful seraphim.
Once procured this priceless gift of absolute serenity,
Powers and blessings multiply by testing and ordeal,
Stolidly maintained, through every trial and adversity.
To lose it would be comparable to poking out an eye,
A censurable carelessness, the blame is squarely placed
On the one who didn’t follow the perfume of His wine.
The chalice of abiding certainty can be secured
By the word, cascading down to leave us consciously aware.
Then upright actions must abound, outnumbering the words,
Until we see with God’s own eye the mercy of His ordinance,
The tenderness behind the torment, light beyond despair,
The fire of the Refiner purging every trace of feculence.
The channel, cleared of all impediments and base dependency,
Will carry us to the city gates, the glowing state of surety.
The atom’s door will open wide leading to the seat
Of wakefulness, discovery, astonishment and elation.
Any other place before is rendered obsolete.
Free of doubt, the citadel of loving confirmation.
If feeling overburdened or dismayed, do not repudiate
The beauty of the Friend who awaits you just beyond the veil.
He’d never allocate a load too burdensome for us to carry,
Nor deal a hand that from the start was guaranteed to fail,
Would never leave us dispossessed, teetering on the edge.
His sea of grace affords the soul a lasting sanctuary.