HombreCambiado• Show poetry

Child, you must wait



Desperately, helplessly, longinly I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.
I plead and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the Master so gently said, "Child, you must wait."

"Wait? You say wait!" My indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith, I have asked, and am claiming your word."

"My future and all to which I can relate,
Hangs in the balance and you tell me wait?
I'm needing a 'Yes' a go-ahead sign.
Or even a 'No', to which I can resign."

"And Lord, you promised that if we believe,
We need but ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry:
'I'm weary of asking! I need a reply.'"

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate.
As my Master replied once again, "You must wait."
So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut.
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting... for what?"

He seemed, then, to kneel, and his eyes wept with mine.
And he tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens, and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead, and cause mountains to run."

"All you seek I could give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want-But, you wouldn't know me.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint."

"You'd not learn to see through the clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in me.
When darkness and silence were all you could see."

"You'd never experience that fullness of love
As the peace of my Spirit descends like a dove.
You'd know what I give and I save... (For a start),
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of my heart."

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked
Of an infinite God, who makes what you have last."

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that 'my grace is sufficient for Thee.'
Yes, your dreams for your loved ones overnight would come true.
But, oh, the loss if I lost... What I'm doing in you!"

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see,
That the greatest of gifts is to get to know me.
And though oft' may my answers seem terribly late.
My most precious answer of all is still, 'Wait'."

Author Unknown






En la honda noche universal
que apenas contradicen los faroles
una racha perdida
ha ofendido las calles taciturnas
como presentimiento tembloroso
del amanecer horrible que ronda
los arrabales desmantelados del mundo.
Curioso de la sombra
y acobardado por la amenaza del alba
reviví la tremenda conjetura
de Schopenhauer y de Berkeley
que declara que el mundo
es una actividad de la mente,
un sueño de las almas,
sin base ni propósito ni volumen.
Y ya que las ideas
no son eternas como el mármol
sino inmortales como un bosque o un río,
la doctrina anterior
asumió otra forma en el alba
y la superstición de esa hora
cuando la luz como una enredadera
va a implicar las paredes de la sombra,
doblegó mi razón
y trazó el capricho siguiente:
si están ajenas de sustancia las cosas
y si esta numerosa Buenos Aires
no es más que un sueño
que erigen en compartida magia las almas,
hay un instante
en que peligra desaforadamente su ser
y es el instante estremecido del alba,
cuando son pocos los que sueñan el mundo
y sólo algunos trasnochadores conservan,
cenicienta y apenas bosquejada,
la imagen de las calles
que definirán después con los otros.
¡Hora en que el sueño pertinaz de la vida
corre peligro de quebranto
hora en que le sería fácil a Dios
matar del todo Su obra!

Pero de nuevo el mundo se ha salvado.
La luz discurre inventando sucios colores
y con algún remordimiento
de mi complicidad en el resurgimiento del día
solicito mi casa,
atónita y glacial en la luz blanca,
mientras un pájaro de tiene mi silencio
y la noche gastada
se ha quedado en los ojos de los ciegos.


'Amanecer'- by Jorge Luis Borges