Poem November 10, 1945 Issue

Now

KATHARINE B. MOORE

In well-wrought mask and wrapped in gay disguise,
A fugitive from yesterday's dark cares.
In search of some resplendent dream to prize
I shopped for joy among tomorrow's wares.
But, stumbling over memory's hoarded loft.
I groped through shadowed pathways bleak and sear,
While phantom beauty urged my vain pursuit
In shrouding mists of doubt and scoffing fear.

At last I cried, "God's will, not mine, be done!"
Love gave me then the key to His own Book
Of truth and whispered: "Peace! Your quest is won.
Beloved, wake from your dreams, arise and look
Not back. For at this moment I endow
you with a perfect gift, the golden now!"

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God's Day
November 10, 1945
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