123. "Come Back, Before Our Souls for Error Yearn"
This is the fourth poem inspired by my rather distant, internet-forum relationship with 2 Medicine Woman. [See: 104 and 106.] I find that coincidence now transcends the remarkable. I remain bewildered in the extreme. She recently wrote on a preparedness bulletin board that a friend had offered her an "all expenses paid" vacation away from the "Great Minnesota Glacier of 2016-2017"--it has been record-breaking winter. The actual destination was to be decided, but would be in some deep South coastal state and would involve sun, sand, song, and much laughter. Somewhat selfishly, however, her friends and family in Minnesota pleaded that she remain. "Cue lightbulb over my head." Thirty minutes later, the following was completed, and after some brief tweaks, was sent:
123: “Come Back, Before Our Souls for Error Yearn”
(Who cares for the caregivers?)
Chill winds blow, wet snow is falling.
We are huddled from the storm.
From the South, you hear a calling,
From a place both fair and warm.
“Let me leave you,” you entreat us,
“That I may re-fire my soul.”
But in selfishness, we answer,
“You are needed, please don't go.”
Fiercer still, the winds grow stronger,
Harsher still, fall ice and rain.
And you dare not linger longer,
While the offer still remains.
Yet we fear to lose your presence,
And we ask, “Can we survive?
If our source of virtue's presents,
Is not kept close to our side?”
But the Maker and the Master,
And the Source of all that's good,
Tell us you must leave us faster
Than our pride believes you should.
So “God speed you” in your travels,
Trusting that you shall return.
Before our feeble faith unravels,
And our souls for error yearn.
"Although affliction cometh not forth of the dust, neither doth trouble spring out of the ground; Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward."
"For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father."
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I was baffled by some of the language used:
a. The phrase "source of virtue's presents" seemed vague--until the recipient wrote me a thank you message which included the following: "I am 2medicine woman. I was named thus in my tribe because I am a healer with 2 medicines. Unconditional love and real truths. Truths from my soul and those that went before." Thus, I was taught that those virtues of love and truth produced or gave rise to a host of blessings, favorable consequences, or "presents" in the lives of those around this choice care giver.
b. The phrase "souls for error yearn" was also perplexing--until I pondered how (a) "the natural man is an enemy to God" and (b) some people have a special gift of motivating/elevating/bringing out the best in us; despite our fractious natures. We find ourselves attracted to such sources of order, stability, and comfort--even though they may possess no formal training or calling for their ministrations. Absent such role models, teachers, and friends, we are oft inclined to "error" and mischief of all kinds and of varying degrees of peril.
Thus, I perceived that this poem had both "messages and lessons"--for the recipient, her intimate friends in Minnesota, and readers beyond the immediate scope of the piece. In part, the theme of "caring for the care givers" was central to Number 38 and Numbers 41 through 45. That theme is one of eternal dimension and celestial magnitude. "We", the needy, who have come to depend upon the Lord's servants ("official" or otherwise) must allow them opportunities to "recharge" their batteries by leaving us from time to time. "They", the servants, must take advantage of such opportunities without delay or regret.
As always, if there is anything herein of value or virtue, praise God--I'm just two hands on a keyboard.