Doctor Grandma

Only Thou knowest

What a handful of days

I have left

On this earthly plane,

 

This dust-heap of a mortal world,

This mountain of dirt,

Our tomb,

 

“However great the conqueror . . .

He is unable to retain

Any part of these devastated lands,

. . . but his tomb,” which will remain,  *

 

And so, my Lord,

I give myself,

my soul,

my tears of longing,

 

Weave these into a cloak of Love,

And wear it ‘round Thy shoulders,

While I stand back, in total joy

to be nearer my Beloved,

 

Forgive our feeble efforts here,

We never will be worthy,

Only the flame of longing burns,

It melts my heart away,

 

For Thee, we go on day to day,

Hoping to attain Thy pleasure,

We cast our nets into the sea,

Hoping for a catch beyond measure,

 

For Thee, for Thee,

We strive and pray for a way to build the Kingdom,

For Thee we live another day,

We pick up pieces wear they lay,

And mend them back together.

cfblack 03-25-2016

* from the Writings of ‘Abdu’l-Baha

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