SEEKING

Why, after a perfect weekend, my heart should sink so low
and weights should slow my step, I'll never know.
Why, with all the joys of autumn skies serene behind
because of clouds and bitter winds, I change my mind;
or why, when two days past I rode enchanted with the world
my spirits droop and perish like sodden flags unfurled -
... these things I'll never know.

Why the Lord above us, seeing how is mankind fickle,
should raise a loving Hand to set a soothing brook a-trickle,
ordaining stars to glimmer for us when we do but grumble,
ignoring all our foibles; sympathizing when we fumble,
giving to His spoiled ones Nature's mighty prize
when all we do is worry, or raise defiant cries -
... these things I'll never know.

How great must be His love for us, who seek what is at hand -
who prize the distant grotto, and seek a wonderland;
who notice not the flower, the leaf, the ancient tree,
but search a vague perfection that's all around to see! -
For were His love not boundless, why would He let us dwell
within this flowered Eden -
... since we are seeking hell?