When We Romp And Dance
Poem by Wilson Ogg
We are not destined for toil but for frolic
Those who labor miss their clues
And act meagerly their roles
We who play need no utterance but
---the breath of life itself.
In our rollicking, we capture nature
That plays hide and seek with us
---shunning and yet yielding to us
In our taking, we find beauty
---skipped by those who submit to
From castaways of others are gems of
---artists and gist of thinkers.
And when we romp and dance
Love wells up within us
Waxing our compass one to the other
In granting us a parcel of eternality. The Coming of the Night You and I could now fulfill
---the thrusting uplift
---of our spirit
We choose instead to know
---our mother and father
---the begetters of our race
Whose stone spurted forth
---before we knew the light
And when our day is spent
---will bear fruit with
---the coming of the night.
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