Poem May 14, 1979 Issue

Lay hold on your prize

Diane Marshall Dickson

So, you say
error won't let go?

But think:
what is it?
that which was never known by the all-knowing,
that which was never seen by the all-seeing,
that which was never created by the all-creator—

Say,
how do you play tug-of-war alone?
How do you defeat what never was?

Dear friend,
lay hold on that rope and draw it to you gently, firmly;
at its end, not an enemy but a friend:
a thought more true, more priceless than you imagine.
Neither fear, nor bitterness, nor anxious care,
but love will win the day and gratitude the prize
of perfect healing!

Diane Marshall Dickson

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