If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away---Henry David Thoreau

Friday, November 27, 2009

Burning God: an old poem by Leo Hartshorn






















flood my soul, O burning God
with light eternal shining brilliant
brighten my spirit against the darkness
that covers the world like thick tar

open the windows of the eternal
and blow a fresh wind across my face
that I might breathe in deep
the sweet air of freedom

as I live in the autumn of my days
cause my eyes to see the spring of life
fresh, alive, vibrant with color
dancing in the breeze of the Spirit

feed me with the bread of wisdom
and I will break off a piece and share
with others the food of my God
Baker and Maker of light

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