To A Good Land, 1966

To A Good Land, 1966

Throughout the universe There is a Beat, A mark of Vitality, That reflects a steady constancy Our souls long to know. * The stars Stand Immoveable anchors, (yet in rhythmic time) Of Staidness In the vastness of space. And the symmetry of the heavens Is witness. * One star named Sun Stands assurance To nine planets. Thfourth turning Toward and away Allows Sun’s light To bring Day after dark And again day In endless procession To this body called Earth. *

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The seas of Earth Churn Day and night And only the tide Seems aware Of anything more than Its own rolling deeps. The deeps stretch on Into Heaving surf That beats On rock And sand. The surf Pounds To move on, but Is stopped By the mountain and beach Of land (security of Earth) For it stands still In midst of the ocean’s Ceaseless goings. * Over the far horizon In the gray of early dawn Rises A shadow, A man, Coming to work the land. Still in the distance He stops, And in one of those rare moments of Insight, Sees the magnificence of This land. *

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When the sun begins to descend Toward dark, The man Turns to leave, Weary, For the land is hard And not always obedient To his commands. But he turns toward home And because of This He will come again To wonder at his land, For at home * Are his children. This is how a man Can give himself To a time when He Has ceased to be; To pass on His very Pulse beat, His Thought, Feelings, Hopes, Drives, And that in him Of which he may not be aware, But, ages hence May be revealed In another. So man’s spirit Continues, And this truly Is lasting. *

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Yet As evening Turns to night The father awaits a daughter Who doesn’t come home, But instead Is out with her lover Wishing on a falling star. And the father knows A longing That escapes from hiding For a time To gnaw at his mind; For * Stars do fall. And shores do crumble Into the sea. Earthquakes swallow mountains. Rainclouds move on And volcanoes surge From the ocean deeps To build new lands Layer on layer. And the pulse beat of man Kills Its own children With wars and plagues. Or his spirit just Dies A childless old woman, A bum in the alley, A forgotten number. Children ruin names And don’t come home. *

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In the heat of A new day, The longing still there, The man Does not joy In the sight of his land. His dissatisfaction Wears deep. And In the sweat of confusion He strikes Hard at the land With directionless energy, And echoing The ring of his tool, Harshly utters From the depth of his Frustration, * “God. God. God.” Though no communication Was intended, the Pleading cry Of his inner self Sounded through his cursing words. And I AM, Beyond the most staid star, Looked at the man He had made, And saw him In the stinking sweat Of his discontent, And loved him. *

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I AM had made man To enjoy With Him The deepest reality Of being, To arise strong, Take life with zest, And joy In the purpose of existence. Yet, Having once refused, The man could not see And groveled now In this field of dirt. And because of His love From all time, * I AM spoke. “I have surely seen the affliction Of my people… And have heard Their cry… For I know their sorrows; And I AM came down To deliver them… And to bring them up Out of that land Unto a good land.” *

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The whole universe Rocks In uncertainty. Nothing In the entire world is Steady. Mankind turns From One thing To another In search Of Something solid To rest his foot on. Yet Nothing will suffice, * Save one. For there is but one constancy In all of space, And but one Absolute Throughout time. It is He alone That From before the beginning To the farthest reaches Of eternity Can Name His own name, Ever the same, I AM THAT I AM.

© K.E. Stegall 1966

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