Each Friday I post a poem, until I run out.
What splendor lies within the human frame,
To catch the gaze and magnify the Lord!
Yet still, it seems, our God takes special care
To pour his glory from unstinting hands
Upon young children. Thus in young ones’ forms,
Their faces and their artless bearing, see
Unveiled, such guileless, measureless delight!
And feel so many quiet spirits tug
Upon our heartstrings. Who can laugh aloud
Who sees a child in tears, her head in hands?
And who can languish, deep in dark despair,
Still melancholy, when a child smiles?
Thus wisdom was, when God first made the world:
A child beside the Master Workman’s hand.
And, too, recall, our Lord held to his breast
The children that had sought the Savior’s face,
Commending their example to the church.
Lord, grant that as we grow into adults,
We’ll not forsake the things we had at first,
The childish virtues that our Lord commends.
I wrote this poem sometime in the last couple of months, most likely late at night when I was trying to get to sleep. The first part comes from my experiences in two churches with several quivers-full of children, the second from my recent reading in Proverbs, and the third partly from some quotations from C.S. Lewis. As always I welcome your comments, critique, suggestions (perhaps of a real title?), or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. You can also read other poems I’ve written on my blog.
This poem is also posted on my wiki.