What manner of thought your lot my friend
As you stand here ere it’s calm or wind
And view what’s left of a bygone trend
Or read the brave words some ancient penned?
Does it make you want to shed some tears
For hard-won struggles of pioneers
That are all but lost by passing years?
Does it awake in you latent fears?
Can you feel the pain they must have known?
Can you all but hear the women moan
As the wilderness claimed one of their own?
Can you think of these with heart of stone?
How they must have felt the winter cold,
The tender young and the failing old
As its icy fingers lay them hold.
Should the price they paid go on untold?
With tools so crude, but with hearts quite stout,
They challenged the forest here about
And braved the frightening world without.
They didn’t have any time to pout.
Their constant watching for beasts of prey,
As they let the children out to play,
Was just part of struggling on their way.
What mental anguish, who here can say.
Can you and I come visit today
And just stand and look, then walk away?
Do you have a feeling of dismay
That they had the strength to still be gay?
At our own complaints do you feel some guilt
As you look upon a handmade quilt
And the other basic needs they built?
Does it make your self-importance wilt?
Friend, come join me in a silent prayer.
Take hold of your heart and lay it bare
Before our Dear Lord and His kind care.
He has love for all and some to spare.
Dear Blessed Father, my prayer will be,
As I give Thee praise on bended knee,
Let me see in this the hand of Thee
And make humbleness a part of me.
Marlyn Kinney’s Comment: This poem was prompted by Vesper Services in the Rose Garden at Spring Mill restored village, Spring Mill State Park, Indiana, very special camping spot in our memories