You would think the fury of aerial bombardment
Would rouse God to relent; the infinite spaces
Are still silent. He looks on shock-pried faces.
History, even, does not know what is meant.
You would feel that after so many centuries
God would give man to repent; yet he can kill
As Cain could, but with multitudinous will,
No farther advanced than in his ancient furies,
Was man made stupid to see his own stupidity?
Is God by definition indifferent, beyond us all?
Is the eternal truth man's fighting soul
Wherein the Beast ravens in its own avidity?
~ Richard Eberhart
"The dictionary defines a pilgrim as one who travels in alien lands.
In a sense, we are all pilgrims, for all of life is a search -- for
security, for success, for love. For some of us, the journey is
a longer one than for others, and for the few it can seem all but
impossible: a confusion of desires exists within -- the desire for
recognition verses the desire for anonymity, and trust verses suspicion. If the confusion reaches too great an intensity, we run the risk of
losing our bearings altogether.
"It is said that there is at least one extraordinary event in the life of each of us, a moment so outstanding, so inexplicable that it stays with us forever, timeless, always present, and if this event is properly understood our lives can change radically. But if the meaning of the moment is lost on us we are doomed to wander, Cain like, forever."
The Pilgrim Soul, first broadcast over CBS radio on November 13, 1978.
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmured, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.~ William Butler Yeats
