09 June 2012

Prologue (Section 2)


So, cleaving in distracted mind to prayer
though then attending more to what I thought
was fitting for a young man of my state
than to our Lord himself or my great need
I knelt in wait for him to stand and leave
And when he did at length arise to go
Right after him I went and chased him down
And caught him almost by his scapular
Along the passage as he took his stroll.
"Father, hello!" I called him as he went,
And turning he addressed my anxious face
with gaze serene, awash with holy calm
"Good day, my brother, whither do you run
and why?  If you were free I'd beg your help
in teasing out some subtleties of thought
your youthful mind might crack more easily
than my poor old one can."  I paused agape
"But truly, father, I was running here
to catch you at your walk so I might ask
If you instead would help a shamefaced son
maneuver the next bend in life's long path
and give my light by which to tend toward light
who constantly veer off into the brush
and find myself so awfully turned about
that road and forest merge within my mind
to cloud my steps with fear of further faults
which lie unseen like roots before my feet
and threaten injury and speedy death
in solitude and darkness 'midst the world."
"Tut tut, my son, a man is never lost
who has his savior buried in his heart
whose steps indeed are guarded by the saints
who's girded by the angels of the Lord.
And though he walk in forests still unseen
or find himself through fault worn down or tripped
half buried by a boulder's weight of vice
still he who shuts his eyes to fear and waits
with patient expectation soon will find
that better eyes are there to lead him on
and surerer feet will find for him a path
more perfect and indeed more quickly bound
to happiness than any human eyes
could see.  And if he humbly should allow
another to receive from him the weight
of vice, the downcast stance of sin
he'll find them gone, received by steady hands
so open to take up the wretch's load
that they are anchored thus by splint and steel.