Christian
Perhaps upon the River's tears or by its dwindling streams We feel a heart that’s beating power without another means A power that turns the waiting tide and waters plants and flowers Turning students to their books in every waitng hour A power that lights the morning dawn and dusk a gentle glow A power that hold each swan intact as waters gently flow A guiding light which simply “Is” with no demands on man While preachers loudly scream and shout that all the folk are damned A power that needs no words nor praise to move within it’s place For it has the world for man to feel it’s gentle guiding pace And if by chance an apple tree should spring in unknown parks Or nestling feathers after flight, you see a morning lark Look upon its shining beak or feathers black and pure Worship not the image, mind, but the power that it endures And when the apple tree no more, holds up it’s greenish fruit Look toward the power in Life for all things absolute Only the real stands up to time, with majesty and robes All else disappears from sight, with pain and anxious throws And so the real in everything is found not in the clay But in the power of Life itself which opens up the day Dwell not in things which are not real but look behind the eyes There you find the real idea of all that Love implies