The Maker's Art

How She has moulded the unwilling clay!

Recalcitrant, obtuse and ego-willed,

To realize that all we do or say

Is seen in clouded light and error-filled

Until the soul shall sing upon the heights

And drive the engine of the body-mind,

Exultant cells awake divine delights

And every breath attuned, no longer blind

To truth and love and beauty, life divine

Upon this earth oppressed by man, despoiled,

Their lives the living symbol and the sign

Of Godhead's will, for this through ages toiled,

Their sacrifice, the suffering endured.

We cannot plumb the darkness they have seen

While we are in such ignorance immured

Nor hope to scale supernal peaks and glean

A fragment of the bliss that from their hand

Is offered to the vast surrendered heart.

For all we have achieved is etched in sand

Yet soon shall be revealed the Maker's art.