B. Royce

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  1. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    The Secret Petals At end of day, in dark'ning hours, When winds are still and closed are flowers, I sit outside beside the tree And hear the song you sing to me. Yet it is not for me you sing, But for yourself, just practicing; You don't know I am here at all, Within the dark, behind the wall. Behind the wall, beside the tree, Upon a bench I sit for me, And take in true the best of you To carry it the whole night through. For in my sleep your voice I dream; I seem to float on your pure stream; And when I wake in bright'ning hours I'm overjoyed from hearing flowers. Sing on, sing on, perfect your tone; Make each phrase yours, and yours alone. I'll interrupt you not at all, Beside low tree, behind dark wall. Behind the wall, within the night, I'll guard your spirit's singing light, Let no one trespass while I'm here, Let no one mar the bars I hear. So right, and so complete, so free, So beautiful, I all but see The rosy bud that spreads apart The secret petals of your art. Sing on, song on, one minute more! This hour goes so fast before! Yet I am happy, having heard Such beauty in each soaring word. ____________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  2. I hope this is the right place for this. It is a poem I wrote back in the early nineties. It was written with young people in mind, but I think more mature people may enjoy it, too. I add, it could not have been written without the great influence of Ayn Rand. Ours The house is silent. The air is heavy. The dusty draperies Stiff and cold. But life, outside, Our_ life, our secret, Springs and sings By the high stone wall. They said, "If You go beyond it Down to Hell you'll Scream and fall. "You'll slide in sin, Go down forever; You'll twist in fire And drown in greed." But Hell is what? Who really knows? That massive hill Is what we need. "Thar mound", they said, "Is much too high. It isn't good; It shouldn't be. "Your eyes and knees Must seek the ground; Your head must bow In humility." We rise in darkness, Me, my sister; We lift the window On what will be. Afar we see A silver star Fire off where No others are. It doesn't wait For something's call Just goes, and Doesn't fall. Say! Do you see? It's gone for good! Like you and me, Gone for good! "Yes! I see! Like you, like me, It's gone for good! Gone for good!" "Stop this singing! Don't be smart! God Knows what is In your heart! "Don't let Satan Make fools of you. Heed this lesson; Believe! It's true! "Lights go on down; Bright longings fail; Such is life from Day to dark day. "Ours is never To test and question; Ours is only To hope and pray. "Selfish joy means Burning sorrow; Clamp your lips And seal your loss. "Make no proud music For poor tomorrow; Just do your duty And bear your cross." Now is anger, Twisting anger, Stinging eyes Held dry and tight. See our faces, Me, my sister; Read the mirror glaring bright. See the straightening, See the sharpening, See the grasping, Proud and sure; See the lips Ache to freedom; Hear the taking, "I am pure!" Out the doorway, Down the pathway, Through the bushes Curtain still, Running feet Spurn the Nothing, Turn to Something Nigh the hill. Far from death And far from fearing, Coming, nearing, Sudden, bright, Ageless face, Calm and searing, Cleaves the clearing, Killing night. Now, the Wall, Set to pen us; Fear of Hell To make us stay. Look! the birds, Branches swinging, Might be singing, "Here's the way!" See! It is! Right before us! We were blind! Lies aren't strong! Winging eyes, Almost flowing, Skim the rim Above the wrong. All we are Flies up skyward, Seeks the star That never dies; Sees the hands Reach up for freedom; Hears "I have it!" Clasp the skies! Clasps the trees, Clasps the branches, Slanting up Beyond the wall. Wall of evil, Wall of dying; What care we How hard we fall? Hands are sweeping, Bodies leaping; O'er the wall We're flying far. Through a fountain, Up the mm--ountain! All we take Is what we are. Depth is passing, Height is lasting; Eye of Freedom Beckons still. Heart's desire Needs the fire; Look up higher, Have your fill! Who would doubt Their eyes their seeing? Who would want A better boon? Grip the rocks; No more dreaming. This is real, Not a doom. Yes, I hear them, Just like always, Wailing "Love!" While hunting youth. "Love!": to hold us, "Love!" to mold us, Love of guilt To smother truth. But we live, And truth is rising; Youth is smiling To think and see. What's ahead Is hard of telling, But no more "cure" Of humility. Nay! to praying; No! to hoping; No more shaming Behind the wall! Light is seeking, Right is streaking; Kicked-off burdens Slide and fall. One last measure, One more pleasure, Climb for treasure, Grasp, and draw! Sure the hour, Pure the power, Golden shower Now is law. Look! the world! "Yes! I see it! Gleaming, laughing, Smart and tall!" See! those lines there! Silver runners! Here's our treasure! Stays, and goes! Stays, and greets us; Goes, and leads us; Life's completeness Ours to hold. Aims the mirror, Aims the steel, Aims the spirit Straight and bold. All our singing, All our grasping, All our leaping, Ours to bear. High the beauty, Low the duty; Leave the Ghost And breathe the air! What we are Stands, self-making--- Minds unbreaking, Brash as steel. Where we go Reason knows it, Leads the souls That shall not kneel. Rays of "I" Climb to gladness--- You and I That here have won. Things of might Sweep beyond us; Here, around us, Feel, the sun! Brian Faulkner
  3. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Joy Ascending The start of Spring is starting, Each leaf from bud departing; The rain is pelting the snow that's melting, Sweet grasses seek the sky! The heart of life is beating In lips of love repeating, "I'm out of lonely now you're my only; Let's kiss cold pain goodbye!" And up through all things growing, And in our knowledge knowing, Is joy awaking for joyous taking, And we'll not let it die! Sheer ecstasy is cleaner Than dear things near blown greener And birds out-winging with all their singing For our love making fly! In joy of joy ascending With triumph never ending, Our love is blessing our joy's caressing And we'll not let it die! ___________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  4. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    The Whole World I see you in each bird, each flower, each tree; I feel your arms in wave-crests of the sea; Your fingers pull my hair in breeze's rush, Your lips upon my lips in starlight's hush. The earth beneath my feet---your steady walk; The searchlight of your gaze---in summer's sun; The mountains hold your satisfying talk And all their slopes slant toward me like you run. I sing your name; deep canyons make more dear Each loving double syllable I hear. Imagination draws your face so true I turn about---and everywhere see you. But now you're here all being's up and died, Or else it's you---the whole world at my side! __________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  5. Happy Anniversary to ME!

    Congratulations, Betsy! You are doing a great job! Keep journeying joyously and with clarity!
  6. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Holiest Snowflakes swirling oh, so free And oh, so lightly land; Your hair, it wears a crown of thorns That dies away so grand. For God is not inside your head, Nor grim-mouthed red-tailed saint, And foolish prayer lies fully dead Beneath your red lips' paint. No angel sits upon your tongue To still your life-love speech, Which proves that you have kept you young Beyond tradition's reach. True pureness of desire does shine Upon your throat so fair And guilty cross has sunk to pine It could not clasp you there. Your parents made you go to church, You knelt, but not in soul; No ghost was in your mental search, Your perch was self-control. Now in the world and on your own You're more than atheist--- Won lover of this life alone That sun and cloud have kissed. Snowflakes swirling oh, so free And oh, so lightly land; Your hair, it wears a crown of thorns That dies away so grand! ________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  7. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Young Children's Poems Winds a-blowing, huff and puff! Took my hat; I said, "Enough!" Winds are deaf and winds are dumb; Now I'm running more than some! Hat in pocket, glad I stand. Wind has such a soft light hand My hand was a thing so strong I will sing the whole day long! __________________________________ Orange for breakfast, orange for lunch, Orange for dinner---oh, too much! I'll be orange before you know, Lips and nose and chin a-glow! _____________________________________ Only Me The snow outside was very deep, As if the world was fast asleep. Nothing moved and nothing stirred; There was no song of happy bird. The wind was still, the drifts were high; My house had one un-covered eye, And from my attic I could see There was only, only me. ______________________________________ The Ant I saw an ant a-working hard, But never heard it pant. Did not complain of sun or rain; It never said, "I can't". It lifted trees and boulders high, It carried to and fro; It never said to Nature, "No, I'll not your strength defy." For it keeps working very hard, And never says "I can't". Does not complain of sun or rain, This glorious tiny ant. __________________________________ My Friends Blows the wind, But not the sun; Stars twinkle, But not the wind. I can see, But not the clouds; Close my eyes, I still can run. Branches bend, Rocks do not; Neither boils In the pot. Wind and trees Sway together; I swing stones, They're my friends. Dogs don't twinkle, Cats don't blow; Horses boil--- Oh no, no, no! Girls can skip, And so can stones; But girls are much Too big to throw! _____________________________ Blades of grass are sweet to kiss, But to eat I'd rather miss. Roses, too, are nice to touch, But I'd rather ice for lunch. __________________________________ Butterflies have flown away; Only snowflakes come to play. I can catch them---see! Right here! In my hand a little tear. _____________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  8. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Midas Day Boom Now Midas Day swings round again With cheering might for happy men. The bells and smells of Midas-time Now steer the year's beginning/end When presents will present their joys For laughing children, girls and boys, And all will hear glad Midas' noise All over this glad town! Each Midas tree is standing bright With dangling jewels and sparkling light; Each Midas sign--the dollar sign--- Is glowing gold with luster fine; And each live Midas song rings free With happiness that loves to be For year-long thriving industry All over this glad town! The hills are smacked, the oil fracked, The profits are paid out and stacked. Each oil man's un-foiled grin Declares a king of single win, And all together strut with pride Through stores with toys on every side For nephew, baby, new-made bride, All over this glad town! Aroma of the turkey roast, Aroma of the dark green pine, Aromas past of mastery's sweat On persevering faces set, Combine in mind the hearty boast That "What I've made is truly mine And Midas Day is my own get, All over this glad town!" ___________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  9. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    A Giant Laugh The sun had broke with all his might Out of a mount'nous cloud; The spires of man he did ignite With gleaming gold so proud. Each city on the eastern coat Blazed forth a fiery fount, While working people stood to boast, "Our works are works that count!" Then stormy clouds again rolled back; Dread darkness stunned the day, Till lights of man made their attack And all did shout "Hooray!" Again the sun so strongly shone, Thickened again the storm, While through it all some stood alone, Laughing to see the norm. A giant laugh for cloud and sun, A giant laugh for man; A laugh of joy for all to come Since man's great work began! _________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  10. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    On Thanksgiving Day On Thanksgiving Day let all glad men profess To be thankful for happiest happiness, To be thankful to that which comes from high pride To he who has welcomed bright day at his side. The free air of honesty, fresh and sincere, The sunshine of actions led open and clear, The blazed independence of pathways new made For dreams of the spirit that dares, unafraid--- Yes, these are the virtues that lift happiness To light up the eyes with a loving caress, A touch of the glory-of-being on they Who straddle the barriers placed in their way, That flows as a blessing on ends just begun, On those who began them and those have won, That sees each creator as brother and friend And celebrates all who strive on without end. This happiest happiness, it must be earned, And Thanksgiving Day is for they who have learned That heights of production are glad hills to climb No matter if knolls or iced mountains sublime! ____________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  11. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Thanksgiving Day Blessings High praise to producers I'm singing today, High praise for their courses they steadily stay--- Who fashion the fine things by which I do live And set out to trade and, no, never to give. Great praise to their effort and thoughtful good sense, Sure-guided by judgment of hard evidence, With firm moral strength to do everything right And push themselves upward to profit's glad height. My high praise, my great praise, so true in me, strong, Fills all of my being, bursts out in pure song! Straight-shooting producers, now stand you up proud, Receive my life's blessings with heads all unbowed! __________________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  12. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    My Life, My Will (Inspired by Brittany Maynard, who has received a death sentence from brain cancer, and who has moved to Oregon where she can have doctor assisted suicide) I'm terminally ill, Yet while I live By my free will My life I'll take Before my voice Hears not my choice And on I live A bound mistake. To vegetate Won't be my state,--- A mindless thing Without an "I":, A bit of flesh That cannot sing, But only stare With dull, blank eye. I'll terminate The date of fate And with my will Be joyous still Till my last breath By my own hand Is my live death At my command. Don't pity me That my life's short; Don't argue I Must not abort. Above all gods Or social claim My mind is mine, My sacred flame, And I'll be I Until I die, A selfish height Of mortal might Whose large last act Will be that fact That leaves no doubt That I'm gone out. My friends, be glad; Oh Love, not sad; Be proud of me Who lived so free That I could choose To win my way Of full alive On my last day! _________________________ Brian Faulkner
  13. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    One Life As the end of my being is the joy of my giving That all that is in to the whole that is me, As expressed in the something that barely passed nothing Until I had lifted and loved and set free, With the mark of my thinking and passion upon it That makes full immortal, yet timeless my time, So my all days are one day, and more is not needed, For nothing's more high than creation sublime. I live life with my fire, longevity scorn; What is better than being the reason I'm born? And to know there's an end day, a last day, a death, Gives a meaning and purpose to every live breath, A magnificent present that only life gives In the moment of moments when joyous pride lives, Where the world and its everything is only so great As it loyally leads to my glorious state. For mine is the Heaven of Selfdom, the throne of mankind, In the height I have chosen and captured, alone with my mind! __________________________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  14. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Columbus, Seen Columbus, seen, Looked at the Queen And gave his winning speech. Said he would go Where no man know And bring the all in reach. Most men did doubt, And shouted out That he was well-nigh mad, And monsters dread Would seize him, dead, Who foolishly waxed glad. Columbus sailed, Fearfulness failed; His calmness drew men on; The "fall off ball" He deemed a flaw, His judgment was men's dawn. Columbus, soaring Past the scorn Of they who love to hate, Alumnus bright Of summer light, Superior to fate, I praise your pride That, un-denied, The earth with truth did crown. Your careful thought, In daring wrought, Has brought us all around! __________________________ Brian Faulkner
  15. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    My Own Place In the luminous light of a happy man's brow Is that pride of his being that lifts me to bow, For it's not upon knees, but in spirit of praise I am up to admire the strength of his ways--- His strong greatness in gathering work to his hand For the joy of high daring his will does command. The true lights of his eyes are not stars in the skies That are ever in midnight or dawn to be found, But are earthly, intense, with above common sense, And held taut with ideas, in motion, unbound--- A new energy, giant, that jumps into fire For a weld to the willing of one man's desire! In the glory of gladness engirding his face Do I gaze on my future and find my own place. My own place is the daylight of thinkers who dream; My dear home is the sound of my many-stringed lyre, And I send out a song on a life-giving stream That is melody made of all human desire. I am off on a note to the highlands of hope, Where the true and the possible play; Where never is heard the poor word of a pope And the mind is not cloudy all day. And the range of my song for the good and the strong Goes from courage and laughter and light To integrity's wings, that fling wide when man sings Of his glory in going so right! My own place is the greatness of men when they know That the banner of judgment must never hang low! ________________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  16. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    The Poet and The Statue If I, as bird, did fly around your waterfall Of silver-shining hair to see your twinkling eyes And stopped, a-hover there, so much amazed with all The wrink'less beauty of a splendid lover, oh, Would I not sing such piercing songs into the skies That gath'ring clouds would get them fast and far away, And winds, that moved so dull before, would blow and blow, And fill with big bloom odors all the wilding air Until you breathed, and turned, and stretched like bursting May? Then, awed, I'd sit a waving branch and watch you there, Like ship upon the waters, up and down, in bliss To sight the isle of happiness for which it's bound. And now, with flutt'ring pulse for perfect, twirling 'round, I 'magine me a bee to buzz your lips and kiss! Oh, what better power than poet's power like this? _____________________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  17. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    The Glory of... In the radiant rise of the sun as it blooms on the highway of blue, So the lift of your face in your rising is a wonder that only is you--- A wonder and splendor of being that I am delighting to see As, waking, I turn from our pillow to see all your love-light on me. And a shaft of the sun is as laughter that lays on your shoulders so bright That I am struck deep by your beauty much more than our music all night. From your eyes, in torn clouds of your hair now, love's star-lights still shine with their fire; From your head tilted back in its triumph you know I am swoln with desire, And as sunlight strikes down on the bed here, a gold-molded throne and a shrine, You leap through the space that divides us where springs sing the glory of "Mine!" What's a room, but a place for our passion? What's a door, but our privacy locked, With the wall-enclosed profit high honoring us with kisses well stocked? We've delivered our trust in each other, and our contract is wrought in our word; We have signed with embraces that smother till only sharp breathing is heard. We've not given, but taken each other, and grow equally rich in our greed Till the vaults of our minds, overflowing, are as sunlight and joy-light decreed. In the grand inventory of greatness, in the totals of tributes that climb, We arrive beyond all estimation to sums that are wonders sublime, Till the floor of this house is a-tremble with rapturous joy of our love, And the sun, moving over our bodies, is beaming more brightly above. _______________________________________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  18. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Lasting Youth Your outward beauty has not held, my dear, But what is in makes outside disappear. More wrinkles line your cheeks, time takes its toll, But age can run no ripples through your soul. Your hair is gray as twilight come our way With fogs and shadows bringing on the night, Yet your sweet smile shines brighter than the day And lends to those who see a loving light. Your back is bent a little, but none care, For you are full awake in your straight chair Observing all, and judging every speech, And telling words of wisdom while you teach. We see a form that's changed to outward view, Yet such a girl of lasting youth are you. ______________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  19. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    The Happy Singer When O's of silence steal on your ear And round you turn, but naught is all you hear; When wind is nil, and nothing nothings sigh And all the world is darkness where you lie; Then 'magine me a-struggling with my pen To make a song of light for loving men! My brain now builds a pyramid of song As note on swelling note I point and pile; Becomes a tower ringing high and strong, Then rocketship sky-glancing with a smile. At last I fuel my wonder-work with flame--- The lightning-flower hymn of your fair name! Let soaring song now gratify your ears, Then see the happy singer---who appears! ______________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  20. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Hymn of Man For all this time since human life began With glowing rhyme we praise the mind of man. His thought appears through all he steers, His works are sharp and bold; He plows the lands on which he stands, The seas are in his hold. The plain he takes, the mountain breaks, His engines roar on through; In outer space he weaves a trace Of all he means to do! Then give him praise for all his ways And sing so loud and strong Your very ears will be amazed That pride has such a song! Then glory, glory, glory sing! Send hallelujahs high! Give mind and soul your sovereign wing And top off man with "I"! Your thought comes through in all you do, Ability, it grows; When loyalty is first to you Your independence shows. Your honesty in loving truth, Integrity in act, Keeps joy upon the rail of youth, A-gleam with dreams of fact! There's no detour when you are pure, No senseless, selfless shoal, But you're the master on that shore Of ego's golden goal! Then glory, glory, glory sing! Send hallelujahs high! Give mind and soul your sovereign wing And top off man with "I"! The human race is in first place, The gods are going down! The altruist is just a fist That beats a thorny crown. The love of man, which man began, Is tow'ring over hate; And reason's good is very good, A-shatt'ring shears of fate! We rise and stand on every hand, Our fearless faces shine; We claim the flame of selfish fame With name of one word---"Mine!" Then glory, glory, glory sing! Send hallelujahs high! Give mind and soul your sovereign wing And top off man with "I"!
  21. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    I Took Your Breath... I took your breath into my mouth And all my soul went south; Now in warm lands of circled arms I stand and feel your charms. I'm traveling nowhere but right here To hear your whisper clear, That tells me you have all my will To hold me hard and still. And yet, you cannot get you free, If ever you might try; For your will, too, is all of me Until the day I die! _________________________ Brian Faulkner
  22. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Homeward (a story in five sonnets) They hold you captive---rational egoist, But more than this--my dearest living flame, Proud altar, fair clean shrine I've not yet kissed; Only dances through my soul your name Until it twirls into my true life's sum, Not added on, but mingling with my bliss That I at last should find a height like this. Integrity---a name to strike men dumb Who fear its force, and see it in your eyes. So I have sent a message I'd devise To steal you away before they slay What they should kneel to. Just one more day, But time enough to cancel wicked crime. And now, oh Hope, oh Trust, it is that time. _______________________________________ So soft and low upon the silent night I spoke your name, I knew in me a doubt That in your window you would hear, so slight My flight-stake hymn---a light blown swiftly out, A star-flash cover-cowled with cloud. And then The sentry moved, with clash of metal gear Abrupt, and I, frozen, held my breath (Oh, how I longed to lead him unto death!). Then off he clanked, that luckiest of men, While I in shadow knelt, your lips to hear. And then it came! So sweet, so sweet a "Yes!" And climbing out came all my happiness! Now hands clutch hands and we're already gone To 'scape this devil fortress for the dawn! ____________________________________________ Noised confusion rumbles in the air, Grows loud to left, dies off and goes to right. Drums beat, frantic shouts are there, Fiends circling round with torches, half in fright. We swiftly run our straight and secret way, Leaping stone to stone down middle creek; Soothe, then, our feet awhile within the stream, Yet plashing ever closer to the bay Where hidden lies that freedom-boat we seek. 'Tis here! My Ragnar-plan, it was no dream! Push off! Set sail! Integrity's alive! The wind is for us! Yea, my love, we're free! Out far to isles of happiness we'll strive And make the best of everything we be! _______________________________________ Sitting with you in this fragile boat Into my mem'ry's mind the pictures float--- Of you, standing straight to meet your fate, Spitting in their leader's hatred-face When "Down!" he shouted, "for Islam's grace!" Glittered the sword he swung high up in air, But glittered more your eyes, that held it there. He laughed, and said you would be stoned to death. I looked on silent as I held my breath. I saw you in your room alone that night With face serene, as far you seemed to see The beauty of what life was meant to be (I could not bare to wait to make it right). But now we're here, and fate has met its fate. _________________________________________ The high waves swell and rise and glide on past, The high winds fill and push and scream and roar. We are in front, the leaders of the blast That seeks to set us new on some strange shore! Now stars are fainting out, the sun's at rim, This whole majestic sea now glitters bright! This world's ours, and we are its high hymn, With choiring seagulls adding keen delight! Lo! Arising from the waves---that emerald gleam! A cliff, a hill, a mountain, high and wide! On through this rugged coral reef we'll stream Till we are standing in our happy pride! First footprints---ours, first spark, first fire; Oh love, we make our mark with our desire! This lovely mountain isle, harsh reef, wild foam--- It's here we'll write our songs and make our home. ___________________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  23. Burgess Laughlin: July 4, 1944 - August 29, 2014

    To The Memory of Burgess Laughlin The body of Burgess Laughlin May lie in lifeless coffin, But stands his spirit brave O'er time's tempestuous wave. He lives in words clear-spoken, As all his strength, unbroken, Lifts up his thoughts refined From one objective mind. Severe he was full measure, Strict logic all his pleasure; For Aristotle's light He dug with all his might. Work did not get him wealthy, Spare, and not always healthy, Yet carved he his own niche And I, I call him rich. We, praising his good living, Full honors now are giving, While with proud tears we say, "A real man passed this way." ______________________________ Brian Faulkner
  24. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    New Life This nippy morning air has bit your cheeks; They glow so loud with your new life that I Am eyes-all-eyes for hearing. Nothing speaks So cleanly clear as wint'ry sun in sky, And as your joy-light circles me around I twist a mild typhoon, without a sound, The while my laughing heart beats hard and swift Till breathless breath engulfs me with your gift. You speak, and I see flower-tips of lips Bloom in the air; so ringing waves your hair That I am struck like bells, that bells eclipse, Yet somehow do I stand, as you go----there (You have another job and will be great, While all day long I think and write and wait). Again you speak---my name! With soft goodbyes I follow singing flames of your proud eyes! ____________________________________________ Brian Faulkner
  25. The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

    Contact When the strength of rejoicing is in thee For the love of thy life upon earth, When thy breath is emboldened to sing thee All the words of high songs of thy worth, And thy hands are in fists of proud power, Proclaiming thy work that's well-done, And thou standeth a sturdy strong tower To hold in the joy of thy sun, Then, alone with the light of thy passion, As a flame in the desert at night, With a star as a single reflection Of all thy grand gladness and height, Give thee praise to first beauty of being That began in one flicker of light When reality, caught by thy seeing, Gave in friendliness all of its might. ________________________________ Brian Faulkner