What A Splendid Time Woo Must Have

I Wonder Why We Are Always Sort Of Ashamed Of Our Best Parts And Try To Hide Them. We Don't Mind Ridicule Of Our 'sillinesses' But Of Our 'sobers'.

The Earth Is Soaked And Soggy With Rain. Everything Is Drinking Its Fill And The Surplus Gluts The Drains. The Sky Is Full Of It And Lies Low Over The Earth, Heavy And Dense. Even The Sea Is Wetter Than Usual!

I Thought My Mountain Was Coming This Morning. It Was Near To Speaking When Suddenly It Shifted, Sulked, And Returned To Smallness. It Has Eluded Me Again And Sits There, Puny And Dull. Why?

Indian Art Broadened My Seeing, Loosened The Formal Tightness I Had Learned In England's Schools. Its Bigness And Stark Reality Baffled My White Man's Understanding... I Had Been Schooled To See Outsides Only, Not Struggle To Pierce.

I Can Rise Above The Humility Of My Failure With An Intense Desire To Search Deeper And A Blind Faith That Some Day My Sight May Pierce Through The Veils That Hide. I Know God's Face Is There If I Keep My Gaze Steady Enough.