A
Sacred Freedom:
A Poem for St. Augustine
Terrain dry; African skies-
Fall of the year; a child is born-
The eldest child, not yet a Servant of his God.
Knowledge; not yet more
than such-
The bridge between all that is, all that was,
And all that will ever be known.
The heir apparent: a proud
son,
Wisdom is what is sought and prized-
Heresy and confusion reign supreme:
A mother prays.
Slow, yet sure, capture
breeds a quest for more.
Compassion, Friendship, Touching, Travel-
A scholar is learning, yearning, growing.
Time flies.
Friends become lovers; students
become brothers-
He tries, succeeding and failing-
A budding faith is tested, tried, untrue.
A mother’s constant
tears.
Impressed by what he hears,
Impressed by who he knows,
The Truth remains a mystery; repugnant and resplendent.
A mother’s dream gives
hope.
Eventually, a lukewarm heart
becomes
Ready for He whom it seeks,
Yet chastity is still not yet.
It’s so much more
than just the words.
|
An
open invitation, a fig tree,
