ECCLESIASTES  3

 

I watched them working in the fields,

The gatherers of stones,

The autumn mist was in the air,

The winter in my bones.

 

A time they say to gather in,

A time to cast apart,

Such stones are like my memories,

And whispers from my heart.

 

You raise your stone to build a home,

A fortress or a wall,

Then take the ram to break them down,

Quite helpless as they fall.

 

These stones have rested in the soil,

Millenniums and more,

Now gathered in by worldly toil,

A broken bitter store.

 

I saw them piled like fallen hope,

The greatest and the small,

The earth still clinging, rain-washed black,

Valhalla’s shattered hall.

 

And yet and yet and yet and yet,

There’s purpose through the years,

The share must cut the furrow run,

The land must bear her tears.

 

In time they say we should embrace,

With time they say to dance,

Some time they say for peace at last,

God knows we need the chance.

 

A time for loving ‘blessed truth’

A time to speak your mind,

A time to sow for future days,

With light toguide the blind.

 

I seized my time to cast away,

No stones to weigh me down,

Some holy time for healing now,

My kingdom and my crown.

 

My time for soul and silence,

In the stoneless fields of grace,

My path to heavens holy gate,

The smile that lights her face.