Missing the Point No one was brave there, many turned
away With every thought a backward step for them And all excitement echoes. Others who Would turn the future into an escape And so assembled it before it came Found nothing but themselves to emulate, Would not let any other world take shape.
The closest to a courage halted where His past seeped almost out of hint and he Reacted to himself as wholly present, But too much braced himself as if a wind Of speculation would knock life from him And he diminish into his own madness ; Patience he never quite attained, but had He consummated calm and watched as children Succumb to wonder yet remain themselves, He might have felt the city building round (As visionaries gather in their prayer And are transformed by it) and felt the peace Of when a man puts out his hand to touch The moment not himself but all his freedom.
ELIZABETH JENNINGS.
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