Poem October 31, 1977 Issue

ALONE—WITH COMPANY

When thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee (John 1:48).

Gerald Stanwell

He
invisible
silent
shared
my company once. I didn't know it.

There are no words
for perfect friendship.
I would rest beneath
this ancient tree and scan
new horizons.
This fig tree, buffeted by wind and rain,
never yields to either,
but rather
with fingered
roots
goes deeper for its nourishment.

So we again
must explore our secret hopes,
our deepest prayers—
finding there a timeless witness
to highest sense of life.

We too can find
the richest company
in presence of the Christ,
freighted with joys
that cannot fade, but own
our very being.
The flesh was never barrier to his sight.
His holy recognition is in thought alone.

Gerald Stanwell

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Editorial

The Unique Answer to Discouragement