[Vision2020] Yet Do I Marvel !

[DonaldH675 at aol.com]

Visionaries:
 
Many, many years ago I discovered the poetry of Countee  Cullen.  His work 
had a profound influence on my  life. I noted this evening that Doug Wilson 
blogged (in part) on a  brief conversation we had at the last P & Z meeting.  My 
response to  his understanding of our chat is best summarized by the following  
poem.  
 
Yet Do I Marvel - Countee Cullen 
"I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind
And did He stoop to  quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind,
Why flesh  that mirrors Him must some day die,
Make plain the reason tortured  Tantalus
Is baited by the fickle fruit, declare
If merely brute caprice  dooms Sisyphus
To struggle up a never-ending stair.

Inscrutable His ways are, and immune
To catechism by a mind too  strewn
With petty cares to slightly understand
What awful brain compels  His awful hand.
Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet  black, and bid him sing!"
 
In short, Doug, I never blame the victim.


Rose  Huskey
"And he took his staff in his hand, and chose him  five smooth stones out of 
the brook, and put them in a shepherd's bag which he  had, even in a scrip; 
and his sling [was] in his hand: and he drew near to the  Philistine. "
1 Samuel 17:40

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