Contemplative Poem Seven

O true Country,
O true place of my beginnings,
O true inviter of the alien,
O night ship’s harbor,

O only platform in our vulnerability,

The uniform of our individuality,
(and to whom we salute),
Our native land!

O orthodox beginning,

O leader of a people through the wilderness,
Speak our narrative!

O Place of great interior health,

O Grace for mystery and stealth,
O Beholder of the children’s hounds,
O Keeper of the wealth,
O Safety of the many peoples within your bounds,
May your borders be safe!


Contemplative Poem Eight

O true Land,
O true high mount of my citadel,
O true boundary of my worth,
O territory as long as it is wide,
Fight to defend!

O only generous benefactor,

The dimensions of our faith and of our deeds,
(and to whom we look for conscience),
Our kitchen fire!

O force to drive our law abiding,

O collaboration with the model citizen,
Seek our compliance!

O Valleys in the mist to forested peaks,

O Western plains with rodeo stud,
O Prairie fields of hard red wheat,
O Snow-cleared iced canal, and river mud,
O Territories vast to island roads last,
May your prayers be those of many faces!