These few lessons as souvenirs
Carried from the frozen, snowless places;
Passion lifts a man’s voice to the echo,
Whether Wisdom has given him graces.

While Wisdom speaks in the frost,
And the hunger, and the blistered hands,
And coming to the end of all,
It lifts the kneeling to understanding.

Love is His whisper, His breath
Undergirding every law, every prophecy.
If passion screams without these
It lacks all, and decency.

About viewingcamelot View all posts by viewingcamelot

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