The Clue: Or the Sacred Heart

The factors of our life are not explained

Through common sense or human reason strained

To fit the contrasts of reality.

So intricate is personality,

Our nature will dissent from every plan

To pinpoint who we truly are, to span

Our height and depth and leave the whole resolved.

Only from patient reverence may evolve

A feeling for the curious mystery

Of darksome light and awkward majesty

In everyone, to grope upon the clue

So deeply cut in letters, crimson-hued,

Upon one living heart where beats, alone,

The universal life one with our own.

Dennis Evans, December 1979