Poem August 2, 1958 Issue

HOMESTEAD

Pearl Strachan Hurd

I moved into the light,
And suddenly I saw
That house was mine
(I was the cherished heir)—
The house not made with hands,
Gift from my Father and my Mother;
I take it everywhere.

At first I looked for stone,
For wood, for glass, for brick,
For chimney, and for walls—
How high, how strong, how thick—
Until I grasped the truth,
And the divine bequest
Came clear to me. And then
I understood the rest.

Eternal in the heavens
My house, my heaven within!
No dust, or nothingness,
No fear, no pain, no sin
Can enter. But the gate
Swings open to the guest—
Swings early and swings late—
To welcome and to bless,
Inspire and consecrate.

Pearl Strachan Hurd

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