OF THOUGHT'S GRACE

Of thought’s Grace
Upward seeking light
Dwelling in the heart
A hope of reconciliation
Of a new wisdom
In communion with all.
As the sorrow of the Earth
World steeped in sorrow’s grasp
Beckons to the blessed
Whose courage illumines all darkness.
 
The Spirit World of Life’s own pass
Stirs to breathe in concert
With those answering to their own I
The trust for the stars own future
In that the peace which knows no bounds,
Being the reality of all truth, 
In wakefulness is thine now and here.
-it is a beginning –

The Earth breathes out a sign anew,
A sigh recompensed to breathe again
In love the stars own light.

Patri Beckett

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THE DEBTOR

I am debtor to all, to all am I bounded,
Fellowman and beast, season and solstice, darkness and light,
And life and death. On the backs of the dead,
See, I am borne, on lost errands led,
By spent harvest nourished. Forgotten prayers
To gods forgotten bring blessing upon me.
Rusted arrow and broken bow, look, they preserve me
Here in this place. The never-won stronghold
That sank in the ground as the years into time,
Slowly with all its men steadfast and watching,
Keep me safe now. The ancient waters
Cleanse me, revive me. Victor and vanquished
Give me their passion, their peace and the field.
The meadows of Lethe shed twilight around me,
The dead in their silences keep me in memory,
Have me in hold. To all I am bounded.

Edwin Muir