Grant Us All the Peace of Understanding
Grant us all the peace of understanding
Why it is that anything is here.
Happiness or horror notwithstanding,
The point of the whole thing is far from clear.
If you are perfect, why this botched creation,
Replete with hunger, torture, lust, and greed?
Why suffer on the cross for our salvation?
I understand the end, but not the need.
A perfect being needs no son, no heaven,
No purposes, no places, priests, or prayers,
No stars or sepulchers, no souls, not even
One dead fool, about whom someone cares.
Could it be perfection could not be
Without my love for you, and yours for me?
Habit Is the Hand that Shapes the Heart
Habit is the hand that shapes the heart.
A soul becomes the soldier of its faith.
Peace prevails through courage and by art.
Pride is vanity, the preacher saith.
Yet love is sky to mountains and to seas.
Evil and good lie blissful in its arms.
All may find that joy with equal ease,
Sunlight radiant above life’s storms.
The character is written on the face
Even as the soul receives its grace,
Restored to innocence and on its knees.
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