Poems by Themis

The Key

There are no keys to the place of the Presence,

We wait and wait outside;

If you should hear the stir of His footsteps,

Mingle in dust your pride.

Only His will shall open the strict gate,

We wait until He choose;

My key of white peace, your key of white passion,

Will they be any use?

The sword of pain hangs over the doorway,

Pray you, don't risk the door;

'Tis handsome waiting after the journey

Bridging the farther shore...

But one in our midst, whom the urge could hold not,

Sprang up with sudden start,

And went to the silent doors of unawareness;

The sword went through his heart.

And someone moved quickly within the stillness

Away on the other side;

A key clicked, the hurried key of welcome

The doors were opened wide...

Then there is a way to will His willing,

If we should face the pain;

But who shall will our needed courage?

How vain we are, how vain.

There are no keys to the place of the Presence,

Only His love bestows

Upon our souls the infinite vision,

Upon our toil, repose.

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