Amidst the realms
of mortal soul,
betwixt the helms
of lust and goal,
Burns bright a flame,
unquench'd, undimm'd:
an essence tame,
of purity limn'd.
And e'en the least
of mankind made,
after the beast
or lost and stray'd,
May feel the flame,
in sating sign,
of Him whose name
doth fore'er shine.
For by burn'd breast,
in witness giv'n,
the mind is blest
of God in heav'n,
To know and see
with untrain'd eye,
the breadth of science,
the width of why.
. . . .
scientiaspirituanimo
So, you wrote this?
ReplyDeletetime to create a little poetry book. (-:
hope all is well,
r
I'll just put it in my will to have someone make a big poetry book when I'm dead. ;)
ReplyDeleteThat is not smart. (-: One must make books while they are alive. Otherwise, family members will interpret what you thought when they go and publish the book. Haaaaaaa.
ReplyDeleteLove your writing. I may need to hire you to edit mine. I feel like I have lots of ideas, but I need an interpreter to ensure that the general population understands what I mean.
Sounds good, but don't you want to say what you want?
ReplyDeleteI'll be the spell/grammar checker :D