Immortality

Upon yesterday's lotus the dew pearled
And vanished with the sun.
On a certain morning e'er the winter ceased,
Lo, did the songsters come and later depart,
And the day became stark of their singing.
Within the sky, lo, did a bow arch,
For an instant stand, regally inscribed,
And in shadows melt, becoming commingled
With the blue and cloud-no more!
Wisdoms have grown unto aged sages,
Whose tongues still licked thirstily to utter,
And their dusts dropped, and they became still,
Blown across the paths of folly in little
Fitful gusts-no longer wisdom, dispersed.
With such symbols I am confused.
I have watched my days slip
Into the hopper of time and become ground
Unto the ages in dust.
I have watched men proceed to a certain height,
And then cut down, and their labors fall
As chaff upon days that knew them not;
Yet there is a certain something in that
Persistent essence which spurteth-Youth!
Who staggers beneath the mouldering decay,
And thrusts up his head, decrying defeat,
Urged to be on at existence!
There is no denying of this sustenant sup.
Man hath drank it from time, yet it pours
Surely, and men who come are uplifted by faith!
What then is faith? Each man hangs
About his monk's garb a cord of the stuff.
It holdeth his raiment together.
It is the substance! It is the matter!
It is the actuality! Yet it gnaws
Hungrily at all humankind,
And they know it not.
What is Faith? I have said it is the stuff,
The material of Immortality. Yea, it be
The very footcloth unto the Mighty Seat!
Is yester's dew then gone? Watch tomorrow coming!
Will the lotus bloom anew, and the dew pearl?
Is the song hushed? Spring comes,
And in it winter shall forget to sleep,
And be tricked to dance. Is wisdom done?
Nay, out from the dust of aged wisdoms
Are newer wisdoms tortured forth,
And the stuff, the witchery of this is Faith!-
The soul of man's soul!-
The flesh of his Immortality!