Post by firefolk on Mar 28, 2009 16:59:39 GMT -5
Whatever man hath ears, he ought to hear--
A still, small voice both numinous and clear
(For which the soul both yearns and quakes in fear)
Speaks sempiternally from ancient years
To poet, priest, philosopher, and seer;
And one to whom the murmured Light draws near
Is gifted with a vision which can peer
Beyond the star-clad mountains vast and sheer,
Beyond the stars aflame and angel-steered,
Beyond the angels to the One most dear.
Whatever man hath ears, he ought to hear--
The holy gift may be the heart's dark bier,
For necks grow weak with gazing at the gears
Which move the cosmos, and the gaze may veer
To dire abysms and to stagnant meres,
Where those who have not joy crouch in the drear
And leer and jeer and feast on blood and tears:
Thus vision's keenness kills the very cheer
Which once it fostered, and the soul's career
A blight and bane and burden now appears.
(Hey!--don't worry, I don't actually feel this way anymore. It just popped out and I thought I'd share it. Word, y'alls!)
A still, small voice both numinous and clear
(For which the soul both yearns and quakes in fear)
Speaks sempiternally from ancient years
To poet, priest, philosopher, and seer;
And one to whom the murmured Light draws near
Is gifted with a vision which can peer
Beyond the star-clad mountains vast and sheer,
Beyond the stars aflame and angel-steered,
Beyond the angels to the One most dear.
Whatever man hath ears, he ought to hear--
The holy gift may be the heart's dark bier,
For necks grow weak with gazing at the gears
Which move the cosmos, and the gaze may veer
To dire abysms and to stagnant meres,
Where those who have not joy crouch in the drear
And leer and jeer and feast on blood and tears:
Thus vision's keenness kills the very cheer
Which once it fostered, and the soul's career
A blight and bane and burden now appears.
(Hey!--don't worry, I don't actually feel this way anymore. It just popped out and I thought I'd share it. Word, y'alls!)