Sunday Poem

Standing in the Shadows

Such a daunting task!

To stand alone,

in this court yard,

in the shadow of Tennyson.

So righteously intimidated.

Just like that flower,

Once of “the crannied wall”.

As such greatness herein this shadow,

Seems to pluck away temporarily,

the root of my existence.

Pray tell,

Why this aristocrat of the poem,

Wondered about God,

Wondered about Man.

Casting upon himself,

A shadow of doubt.

Pray tell,

This why has not a daunting answer!

As all the time,

The Lord understood,

About that flower,

About the root,

And all and all!

As if his doubts upon God and Man,

were merely a test for all.

Generations then,

Generations now,

Generations future.

Ah, such a simple poem.

Yet, such a demanding poem.

As to know God,

Is to know man.

As to know man,

Is to know God.

And all and all!

Copyright 2006 MSK/ERP