Onward O Soul
Poem
Published on December 15, 2020
Onward O Soul
Poem
What shall daunt thee O soul,
What strong ills or soiling vice
Speckle thy marless shining visage
Shaped in blazing fields immortal?
What shall pause thee O soul,
What Titan hand impede thy journey
How many chasms of impossibility
Hast thou traversed of the Whole!
What heavy hand of weakness
Can oppress with its incapacity
The inevitable freedom thy destiny
Conferred at birth by divine waters?
Despair not of thy body’s shroud
The recalcitrant sheath slow to learn,
For by repeated dawns shall burn
Thy cell and bone by God inflammed.
If in abyss be appointed the hour
Or in sylvan heights thy stage,
Always the ascending war to wage
On the steep climb of Spirit’s stair.
Onwards O soul, who shall tarry thee,
Thy Master awaits on the cusp of infinity!