Desecrated Shrine

Always throughout the years I saw the Master

Forgiving, with compassion on His face;

But now I see, swift-flashing through disaster,

The javelins of anger cleave His grace.

Within His hand the very whip is lashing

He used to drive the money-changers out.

He hears the clink of coins within the clashing

Of swords that make the world a crimson rout.

Would that today we might retell the story--

The tables overturned, the changers fled;

Too many now defile the Temple's glory,

And God rebukes us for our martyred dead.

He stands majestic, as He is divine,

And bids us cleanse His desecrated shrine.

The Lyric

Second in MFCP Clinic Poems, Fall 1951

Illumed by a Star

Since I am the pilot--

My ship built of days--

I sail for an islet

Beyond the earth-ways,

Its lighthouse a Temple

Illumed by a star--

The bells in its steeple

Call "Peace!" from afar.

Temple Bells

Love bade us sing through sacrificial years

Though pierced by wounding thorns among the flowers;

And always through our sacramental tears

We saw a Temple rising. From its towers

Hearing its bells at twilight, we would view

The desert an oasis bright with bloom.

Beauty would compensate our toil; renew

Our autumn hearts. Love's tapers would illume

Our faltering hours; the shadowed valley we

Would walk together, unafraid ... Now lost

And numbed I wait the twilight melody

Knowing the blighting kiss of early frost--

My song is muted to a stifled moan

For I shall hear the temple bells alone.