Be Not I, Immune From Fortune Poem by Maurice Harris

Be Not I, Immune From Fortune

Once in a lifetime, if you are quite fortuitous
Comes the precise point to your counterpoint;
Life is but a road, filled with pitfalls, circuitous
And long, the way that God chose to anoint
Each of His children, a gift Blessed and gratuitous.
Whence found, may God's Grace ne'er disjoint.

Be not I, immune from fortune, His Benevolence indeed;
My fortunes e'er uplifted, to His omniscient gift, I cede.
A life-long gratitude and demonstration of same
Should not suffice nearly, to encapsulate the acclaim
I owe for the gift of my lifetime, this love unabridged;
If for naught else be I uplifted and encouraged,
More than satiate am I, with all it has brought,
More than learned am I, with all it has taught.

Through God's gracious gifting, patently puissant,
Not always, was I, fully prepared, or dehiscent;
I did not always serve for the betterment of this gift,
Yet, now am I, fully equipped for this heart's uplift.
I have been given so much, due this amity,
Impeded only by my erstwhile lack of knowledge and clarity.
I cannot be more contrite, nor have more sorrow;
Each day's dawn now a quest to better myself by tomorrow!
Responsible for much pain, due my own action,
The sole proper recompense: absolutely no detraction
From this goal, to draw closer, this love of mine;
Then only may the Sun and the Moon perfectly align
To provide a perfect eclipse of two hearts, made one;
To undo prescient thought of that which was done.
This fable has much purpose, bespoken in rhyme;
Proof is made of action over the course of time,
The latter, my shield, the former, my sword.
I run not from, I stand not fast, I run but toward;
I cower not from self-change, this battle:
I need rid, this scourge, allowed to addle
My jollity, to crush my heart, and to injure my soul—
And I must re-absquatulate all that which it stole!
Any outcome but unconditional victory is total failure.
No potential polemic victor's spoil offers more allure
Than the rejoinder of Yin with Yang, of Sun with Moon.
Nor too, than the refinement of an abode, left now, unhewn.
Patience, time, and love, all the necessary artillery
Needed for the provision of freedom from this pillory
Which now binds my heart, my soul, my every thought;
Which now impedes the utter joy I so long-sought.
In the name of my Lord and Savior, this I pray;
With all the honesty in my heart, Amen I say!

-Maurice Harris,31 May 2018