Where fall the seeds of divine love and when befalls it’s nurturance?
Which of us is to decide the care of the garden?
This is clearly set forth in the philosophy we live
And the beat of the drum we follow.
If we kneel in the shadow of the cross.
The casting of the stones
As well as Matthew 7, is our drum.
And Christ, our drummer.
In the garden, we “Judge not”, cast out not,
But fulfillingly radiate
The love of the gardener.
This I beheld or dreamed in a dream.
On my journey past the garden
I was approached by one who heard
A different beat than I.
He asked of me money to buy breakfast(Ripple of course)
In all of my righteous dignity
I walked by one whose needs followed not mine.
Then I though of my drummer
The garden and the beat.
Then I knew it was I who needed awakening and compassion.
It was I who passed by a different flower
At a time when love was at need.
I was the agent of God shouting “Barabas”
In all my action I lost the beat.
At this moment I was out of step.
My awaking was to the garden and it’s profound beauty
Because of the drummer and it’s beat.
To the garden of love,the crescendo of love.
H.A.Whiteside.
