The unknown brings fear to some. To others there comes a sense of excitement and adventure, especially if they believe that all will be well in the end.
Added to the blessings of excitement and adventure are surprise and elation when it is discovered that the journey has been internal and the unknown none other than the pioneer himself.
Pioneers we are and nothing else,
Strange country we are compelled to tread;
Hostile inhabitants deplore our presence;
We take their ground from under them.
Of our own kind there are but few,
The farther we advance, the fewer there are.
We go on and on until there are none;
Front lines are the goal for us all.
Where we stand no one has come
To comfort and to hold our hand
Except for the Great One, THE Pioneer
Who has blazed the trail alone.
Irony of ironies, where does that trail lead?
To bush and barren place, a land of dire need?
But no, it leads us home at last
Where rest prevails and torment is past.
Lethbridge, Sept. 1984
Things are seldom as they appear – if ever. This is because two factors obscure the reality. Firstly, the object of the observation seldom conducts itself outwardly as it really is within or behind the scenes. Secondly, the ability on the part of the observer is limited at most times so that he is not able to see as he ought to. And woe to the one who tries to acquire that which he desires by trying to give the appearance of either getting it or already having it. Truth in the inward parts is not only the desired end but the means to that end. “I am the way, the truth, and the life…” Child of fullness and plenty, have you any idea How empty you may be? Your stomach is filled With emptiness. You laugh Your laugh is hollow. Child of laughter and merriment have you any idea How sad you are? Your heart has a notion Of sorrow on the way. You scoff; You scoff at you know not what. Child of scorn and scoffing, have you any idea How the arrows you shoot reverse? Your own conscience tells you Of condemnation imminent. You despise That which you do not understand. Child of pride and knowledge, do you have any idea Of your ignorance and foolishness? You know it all But not as well as you are known. You pray For mercy – you have none. Child of prayer and fasting, have you any idea How full you will yet be? You are now empty On the way to fullness. You cry; Your tears are not in vain. Child of weeping and sorrow, have you any idea How happy you...
English - Spanish If youth were so important, would we not have been given the wherewith to embrace and enjoy it? But trials and tribulations come as a flood to deliver us, to teach us, to age us. Aged wine, how good! Green fruit, how unsatisfactory! Yet this green fruit doesn't know. It covets its youth, its strength, its firmness, its expectation of longevity and does not care to be consumed. Yes, it much prefers rather to do the consuming. Youth must be told it is there to be consumed and not to consume, that it must wait for that which to it would seem so repulsive as if waiting for something so desirable. Resisting reality, the young one is consumed and loses himself. Embracing reality, time unveils the beauty of maturity and the once young finds new youth imperishable. Immaturity says: My will, not Thine, be done. I want it, I want it my way, I want it all, I want it now. Immaturity says: I'm old enough, I can do it, I deserve it, It's coming to me. Immaturity is indignant at correction, at instruction and discipline. Immaturity harbors resentment, seeks revenge, a settling of scores much in its favor. It takes only the good, despising the bad, not discerning the difference between the two. Immaturity presumes to know, to know better, to know all, despising knowledge and the paths thereto leading. Wisdom is an alien despised, abhorred; folly is embraced as one's dear life. Yet immaturity ends, whether by maturity or destruct...
Poems on The Path of Truth