<h2><SPAN name="poem73"></SPAN>PREPARATION</h2>
<p class="poetry">We must not force events, but rather make<br/>
The heart soil ready for their coming, as<br/>
The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring,<br/>
Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost,<br/>
Prepares for winter. Should a July noon<br/>
Burst suddenly upon a frozen world<br/>
Small joy would follow, even though that world<br/>
Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting<br/>
Of sharp December pierce the heart of June,<br/>
What death and devastation would ensue!<br/>
All things are planned. The most majestic sphere<br/>
That whirls through space is governed and controlled<br/>
By supreme law, as is the blade of grass<br/>
Which through the bursting bosom of the earth<br/>
Creeps up to kiss the light. Poor, puny man<br/>
Alone doth strive and battle with the Force<br/>
Which rules all lives and worlds, and he alone<br/>
Demands effect before producing cause.<br/>
How vain the hope! We cannot harvest joy<br/>
Until we sow the seed, and God alone<br/>
Knows when that seed has ripened. Oft we stand<br/>
And watch the ground with anxious, brooding eyes,<br/>
Complaining of the slow, unfruitful yield,<br/>
Not knowing that the shadow of ourselves<br/>
Keeps off the sunlight and delays result.<br/>
Sometimes our fierce impatience of desire<br/>
Doth like a sultry May force tender shoots<br/>
Of half-formed pleasures and unshaped events<br/>
To ripen prematurely, and we reap<br/>
But disappointment; or we rot the germs<br/>
With briny tears ere they have time to grow.<br/>
While stars are born and mighty planets die<br/>
And hissing comets scorch the brow of space,<br/>
The Universe keeps its eternal calm.<br/>
Through patient preparation, year on year,<br/>
The earth endures the travail of the Spring<br/>
And Winter’s desolation. So our souls<br/>
In grand submission to a higher law<br/>
Should move serene through all the ills of life<br/>
Believing them masked joys.</p>
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