Not to the swift, the race;                                        

Not to the strong, the fight;

Not to the righteous, perfect grace;

Not to the wise, the light.

 

But often faltering feet

Come surest to the goal;

And those who walk in darkness meet

The sunrise of the soul.

 

A thousand times by night

The Syrian hosts have died;

A thousand times the vanquished right

Hath risen, glorified.

 

The truth the wise men sought

Was spoken by a child;

The alabaster box was brought

In trembling hands defiled.

 

Not from my torch, the gleam,

But from the stars above:

Not from my heart, life’s crystal stream,

But from the depths of Love.

 -HENRY VAN DYKE-

 

” In honor  of those who marched today to save the lives of children.”

March 24, 2018

Yu/stan/kema.