This poem was written in 1980 and shows somewhat of my state of mind from that time. As I was writing it, some phrases by English poet, A.E. Housman, came to mind, as I was challenging some of the attitudes that he so well captured, his poems tending toward a romantic melancholy outlook, perhaps more melancholy than romantic. He writes, "Of my three score years and ten, twenty will not come again ... " and "With rue my heart is laden for many a friend I had, for many a rose-lipt maiden and many a lightfoot lad," and "To an Athlete Dying Young," perhaps his most famous poem. Wikipedia writes that his poems "wistfully evoke the dooms and disappointments of youth ..." Anyway, I always like his poems, in my youth, and used to listen to audio tapes of them when I was in college. My own poem here, is somewhat over top in terms of having an affirmative, idealized, spiritual attitude left over from a recent spiritually transcendent perspective, that manifested itself, at one point, as pure glee.
All's Well with the Infinite Man
(Reply to A.E. Housman)
All's well with the infinite man,
Child of the Father-Mother,
He's always been and always will,
Thank God there is none other.
His days exceed threescore and ten,
He lives and loves undaunted,
His words come true, his efforts too,
Find no success is wanted.
O mark him well, this man of ours,
For he is ours to be,
No matter what the old tale was,
Man lives eternally.
The only image of our God,
The thought of the infinite thinker,
This man stands perfect and complete,
No want to fear or tinker.
His life it springs from Mind alone,
The love of God reflected,
And as we live and love our God,
Our love for man's perfected.
This love it forms a family,
With all of us together,
Bound tenderly with precious care,
And joy the only tether.
So what's this tale of want and woe,
Of lives and loves forgotten?
Stand up and say your name aloud:
I'm man, the first begotten.
"I'm man the perfect child of God,
And all mankind with me,
Our only end to know and range,
And share infinity.
I'm not the son of ignorance,
Of feeble-minded word,
For Godís the Mind I do declare,
And nothing else is heard.
Last updated: 12/4/2019
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