Life is humbling, rictus fleering between ought and
is, wish and fact. Our sole choice is to be polished or
scratched, for whatever does not reform us deforms us.
Rarely does eternity pierce the ordinary succession of
moments, in events whose operose unpacking sustains
the civilization of millenia. Assemble, then, renegade
trustees! Fashioned to abide by ancient promises, we
are grown faithless, not moulding, but drifting with
the times. Velivolously wimpled, Clarity and Charity,
those twin ships—equipollent, if various in course—
may yet be sailed to the place beyond death. When
pride’s shadow occludes integrity’s illumination, it is
meet to follow the lighthouse of holy song, in which
heart rejoices and the stubbornest mind finds peace.
_____
Nihal Singh