THE IVORY DOOR
For J.V.

O mourn mourn mourn for the once Perfect World
now trampling precious gifts
heedless of cost.

O mourn mourn; mourn for our now dying world
flaunting its well sharpened tongue;
sightless: but flaunting itself.

Be mourning.
Mourn for the world destroying its very own Life,
lost in deception:

Dulled-down minds and hearts;
strange spectacles for seeing;
minds ablaze with irrelevancies,
trampling precious gifts.

Where is quietness?
Where nobility?
Where discovery?

The restless sea
swallowing husbands and sons;

the insatiable TV
swallowing Time and minds;

the mind-glue-ing computer
swallowing consciences:

These:
hiding the ivory door in our mountain
leading to the passage of the Narrow Way:
the passage through haze to His Glory.

Mourn. Yes mourn.
Then awake and get going.
Such is our story.