The Still Pool
Thus am I: a guardian
On the threshold of this life.
An instrument: to bring some peace
Into this world of strife.
A voice! An ear! An eye
That sees the dead who do not die.
An ear which hears the voices
That bid you cease to cry.
This am I: a name, a channel
Who brings for you relief:
A measure of joy and comfort
In the midst of your grief.
I belong not to earth, nor to heaven;
On the threshold I stand
Reaching into the Unknown;
Giving to you a hand.
I am lifted to heavens by spirit,
Cast to hell by your lack of faith
Abd led by the loving voices
The world calls the voices of "wraith".
The life that is mine is given
To you: for the ones who ha e died
And call to you from the threshold
Of the glorious "other side".
Serving Spirit you can't go wrong.
For your life becomes a song;
A little song, with notes of praise
To punctuate the passing days.
Tiny notes unheard by men,
But added to the great Amen,
Which Nature breathes in wind and sea:
Praising God eternally.
Ursula Roberts |
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