Poem June 1, 1987 Issue

Walking on eggshells

Robert C. Charlton

Glancing in mirrors, poking and looking,
We entertain fears that are lidded, but cooking
In thought—"Am I well? Am I healed?
Maybe matter will tell."

So we give up the field
To subtle suggestions. We're walking on eggshells,
Asking wrong questions—and warning bells
Should be clanging away.

Now ask the good Father,
"What do You say? Would You bother
With matter—You, who are Spirit?
You neither flatter, consult, hate, nor fear it.
Then neither will I.

I'll not tiptoe on eggshells
Or be dainty with lies. Truth, I'm convinced, quells
Fears of all kinds."

So expectant of healing, tears left behind,
We can keep our gaze fastened—
on God's pure design.

Robert C. Charlton, Jr.

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My half of the ark
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