Poem January 1, 1977 Issue

THE APPOINTED

Doris Peel

Those with young,
those with a vision faithfully held
as the child is held to its destined hour

they will be led
through every trial, from the cruelest heat
to the bitterest cold. They will be steadied

when the harsh winds blow
and, in a deadening drift of mists,
be summoned to proceed by a way unknown

as over and over they are told:
It is I who have called you to this role.
I who have caused your steps to turn

from the small hearth
in the sheltering room—out on to this
rough mountain track that only can lead

to the heights ahead.
O Mine the command that works in you!
from the vision sown to the bringing forth

not on some far
unsullied star, or eons beyond
all claims of now—but here, right here

in space and time—
of what from the outset I have known
as your task. In My design.

Doris Peel

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