Poem September 18, 1965 Issue

ONWARD

P. Rhodes Bowen

Do we, still doubting, stand afar,
thinking yet to draw
needed security and warmth
from matter's fickle law?

And do we not, perhaps, declare
that God is All, and then—
through fearful thought or unkind word—
deny it thrice again?

Then do we shed the bitter tear,
while groping among our nets,
and hesitate to face the throng
of fears and vain regrets?

Or do we now, like Peter, stand
with courage renewed, to reap;
and hear the thrice-forgiving command:
Beloved, "Feed my sheep"?

P. Rhodes Bowen

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September 18, 1965

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