SONG OF THE ORIENTAL POET
Anonymous
Spring is past,
Summer is gone,
Winter is here,
And my song that I was meant to sing
Is still unsung.
I have spent my days
Stringing and unstringing my instrument.
~~~
~~~
It was about the poem above that Joyce Rupp wrote, "Whenever I read these lines a certain sadness enters my soul. I get so preoccupied with the details and pressure of my schedule, with the hurry and worry of life, that I miss the song of goodness which is waiting to be sung through me."
