Poem July 14, 1986 Issue

Listening

NORMAN DWIGHT CARY

Once, winds of evil's vague geometries
Blew past, blew in, to weave a shrieking net
Of legion errors. Once, I seemed to let
False fears whirlwind my thought: claim sin, disease,
Were part of me; then vainly tried to trace
Wind-error's vagrant path, seek for its source.
But then I learned no other cause or force
Was present or had power but God. His grace,
His Christ, Truth, stilled the errant, trackless lies;
Brought calm, and peace—revealed the mental gist
That Mind controls. Love holds winds in its fist
And silences our fears, our doubts, our whys.

As did Elijah, let us make this choice:
To listen—and obey the still, small voice.

NORMAN DWIGHT CARY

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