Well all have fallen short  of the glory
Of God as it says in scripture  But is that
To be man's  epitaph to define us as we are?

Sin is to be false to God and ourselves
So it stands to reason that we really are
Not sinners but pseudo sinners acting a
Part that is not who we really are.. We are
Rather the children of God who forgot
That we are playing a part Poor fools who
Struggle and fret...Such things children do.

I will not argue which comes first Repentance
Or Redemption except to say God does not of
His original Being repent of Love or His own.
But perhaps it is wrong to stay His hand when
It comes to the perverseness of human nature.
His children consider not -to not to know His will
That they should live and rejoice therein though
It be their true desire-So would have Him choose
For them and to make known to them His Will
That from gross deception they should be saved=
Such is the pride of play that it forgets it plays  As
Babes up past the   bed time order run rampant when
Most in need of sleep.  There is His rod He makes
Us rest- to dream and wake again: To be who we
Truly are not all knowing- But still His children
Creation begins with an act of love so let it end.

There is a meaning so high and pure that
Who here below can say it true: I love you.
Yet I have said it so many times to you I do
Not count the times and ways daring not to
Question my heart knowing that all hearts are
Unknowable and desperately evil-yet the psamist
Says to lift them but I have never stood upon this
Formality of authentication but pleased myself and
Made myself less if only aspiration could be heard
As truth I could ne'er wait to tell you,  Be that is it
May and granting you your higher  ethic Before I
Go I would count it a kindness from Him above if
Before I go you would say I love you too forever

Quite a long time ago I was invited to a picnic on the
Deleware River.  I do not remember the circumstances
I was a guest of another family--and it was an unusual
Excursion for me at some distance from my  place and
I was the guest of people not well known to me.  The
Site was a rural park on the river, a river flowing well
through woods with some sandy shoreline. There were
Few amenities but there was a canoe rental and I rented
One and proceeded down river.  After going perhaps a
Quarter mile I came upon a man who seemed to be adrift
I waved to him but he did not wave back and I paddled on
a ways but something struck me as odd and I turned my
Head and yelled back-"Are you all right?"  He said:" I am
Drowning"  I quickly went back and allowed him to grab
On and I took him to shore-a very short distance.  I do not
Remember if we exchanged any words and I never told a
Person about my strange experience.  Now all these years
Later the question I asked myself back then :why did not he
Cry out for help when I first passed him and not declare his
Need until I by some vague premonition called back to him.
By such a slender thread does life hang that a man might let
Go by- his salvation in the balcance and wait upon God or
Whim of fate to intervene  the balanced scales weighing-
Whether it is better to live or to die .  To be or not to be?
I do not now know the answer but see more clearly  the ?

In the wondrous ocean of the
Universe so little is known let
Us not be limited in Truth so-
Spacious and that a Metaphor
For anything. at all for anything may
Be-the good; the bad;or  the merely
Different.  As a man's years mount
His reason tells him his time grows
Nigh but is it a reason confined to a
Time gone  by that was not so tried
By time that as it must needs now take
Wonder into  account or embrace the
Grave.  Well with so little left to  gain-
To lose- it is no big thing I think to take
A chance and seek a grander Truth.  To
Take a chance in the mind's.e and  land
Upon foreign shores never  hither been
Explored.  Why do you twinkle little star
All alone in the night the last before I wake...

A whiff of of something desired
That cannot be cannot be  mine
Of desired realized in some other
Clime that       i can only observe
As one apart looking upon a fae-
Land.  It is so quaint and beloved
Of my heart-I say oh why o not me
I would be one with you children so
Wild and free-so beautiful to me-yet
I cannot and still be me.  So  as I must
I travel on but I  will not forget thee.



For the chilrdren  en of Cornwall Bridge who
Danced in the sunny fields for me in the early

Morning of my departure..Are they no more
Yet there is a bridge between then and now.