Eight Long Years Poem by Lynn W. Petty

Eight long years my spirit has been flamed
To understand, to know. I've blamed
The gods, whatever they may be, for such
Demands upon my time. I asked they touch
My soul; to feel the 'click'; to hear the still
Small voice from deep within. I'm losing will!
For eight long years is long enough to read,
To search, to ask for some response. To plead
For something seemingly beyond my reach,
I have the right to claim. I feel the breach
Of time and I demand to know. If not,
I'll close my books; consider it a plot
To just confound the mortal mind of man.
I will! ! Regardless of it all, I can!

Then, swelled the voice of all eternity.
'A measurement in anonymity
Is eight long years. The clouds, the wind the stars
Have sought to teach thee truth. Aye, even Mars,
Uranus, Venus, Saturn, Pluto, Earth,
Which hang suspended in the cosmos' girth;
With Jupiter, and Neptune, Mercury and,
The billion, trillion stars He spread like sand.
And, thou, in 'eight long years' demand to know
What God may be, without the clearing of the din
Of mind; without thee turning to within? '
So spake the mighty voice of deep low tone.

'Thou asketh where the spirit may have flown?
Then, hear thou this, and well: That thou be stilled,
And turn therein, for there thou art fulfilled!
Whose path is that but thine alone to walk?
Thy goal is reached by step by step, not talk.
Thy faith and hope are compounds of thine urge.
His presence is too great to feel his surge.
Desire, patience, living, love all pave
Thy way; removing bramble bush to save
Thy foot soles from the thorny wounds of life.
Whoever said, 'to seek' was without strife?
Thy way is not a freeway eight lanes wide;
'Tis but a path with naught a soul beside.'
Listen! Hark! 'Enough to know is given!
Trust in Him, Thy only way to heaven! '