I think Christendom has: I think Christendom has failed to take seriously the Apostle Saint Paul's assertions, in the Philippian letter, that we are a colony of Heaven; and must, therefore, bring the culture of our Mother Country, Heaven, to bear upon the country---the Earth---which we colonize. With that Mother Culture, we are able to see the miracles that God has embedded in this earth, and that these, as foretastes of the Heavenly, are meant to be not only cherished, but closely observed and appreciated: the change of seasons, dawn and dusk, the flowering of a garden and its autumn decline in preparation for next spring. The great (and now deceased) British actor, Peter Cushing, himself a devout Christian, suggested that the recurrence and regularity of the seasons (due, of course, to the 23 degree angle of tilt in the planetary axis) had been meant, by God, to be a metaphor of Heaven's eternity.
As an officially old person,: As an officially old person, I can say, with some credibility, that the poem's ninth and tenth lines (these are located in the second stanza) are entirely---profoundly!---accurate. My health is failing, and quite a bit of my body does not work correctly, if at all. But in the realm of heart and mind---which I call the soul---I am still dwelling in the best year of my life, 1976, when I turned eighteen, enjoyed the presence of my first Beloved, and also had fallen in love with Poetry. The age in which my body finds itself is not the age in which my soul delights.
When we were quite younger a: When we were quite younger a cousin of mine from W.Va. used to have a favorite phrase for every political discussion: "just nuke 'em." Years later, a group of friends from OH had the same sentiment. We live in the 21st century these days but sometimes it hard to tell if the brutishness of our forebears have really been refined or redefined. Being "prima" is somehow now combined with being "donna." A moral quandary nonetheless. Stirring and sombre in the same breath.
That is quite the dilemma: That is quite the dilemma there; and being of "two minds" is an apt description. Having just returned from a commu outreach at the earthquake slash tsunami devastated coast of Iwate, one of the local social workers who was born there asked us if we ever felt guilt at having survived while the others of their/our cohort didn't? We shared how in early 2011 we two had our devastating inland tsunami and widespread flooding in SE Queensland just a few months of theirs. Hard hitting stuff when such calamitous events strikes large segments of civilization. A very sobering poem George.
A humbling response. Reminds: A humbling response. Reminds me of that older song now, "take it easy on yourself." I could have as well, but such is life. We have our today to live to the fullest.
Thank you so much for reading: Thank you so much for reading and leaving more than a comment; it is radiant and heart-stirring Truth. It's always a great honor when an awe-inspiring poet stops by.
It is a horrific feeling when: It is a horrific feeling when one's friends pass away. I just recently learned of some deaths at my old college, and it shook me up pretty bad. And it is the persistent facts of this problem that only Faith can put into place.
You are absolutely right, my: You are absolutely right, my Brother! Sorry for my delay in reply, I was "in and out" with illness, after two long stays in the hospital, followed by rehab facilities.
Ain't that the truth! Very: Ain't that the truth! Very astute observation, in your poem, which both ancient and recent History bear out. Ironi: Lenin and his thugs came to power because the people feared the Czar; and Mussolini, and his imitator, the housepainter, and their thugs came to power for fear of Lenin's Bolsehviks. I have heard that the fear of Jack the Ripper even came near to toppling Lord Salisbury's government under Queen Victoria (we know she scolded both the PM and the Police Commissioner for not---in her opinion---doing enough to contain the problem). I think the case could be made that even the Snake in Eden played hob on the misguided fear of the two naked knuckleheads who were living there.
I am an old geezer, too---64: I am an old geezer, too---64 years old, this past June, chairbound, barely able to walk (and that with a walker), with two aneurysms percolating away in my chest. Faith and Poetry are my chief delights, and, among the poems that I read, yours are stellar!
This has been a time honoured: This has been a time honoured personal practise of mine in every site. At times it surprises the 'thread hoggers' and the 'forum nazis' but as you so eloquently shared it helps to keep the flame alive, to reconnect with works and poets from a shared yesterday, and to reactivate connections that over time have been eclipsed. I agree full well and encourage all to consider this worthy persuasion.