Where Is the Pavilion?

Last week I wrote a New Year's poem filled with cheer and optimism, but that doesn't mean I'm not aware of the turmoil surrounding us today. In fact, I am all too aware of it…and I sometimes find myself worrying about the future of my children and grandchildren, who (collectively and individually) secure my warm, fuzzy place in this world. With that in mind, my contribution to Warm Heart Wednesday is this poem, reminding me and anyone else who is looking for hope that it can and does exist, always. 

May we teach our children well that this is true.

Where is the Pavilion?

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

Where grows the tree so firm and strong

that no foul wind can bring it down,

the tree so straight and true and tall

no hunter's axe can make it fall?

Which branch, nourished by rain and sun,

still puts forth buds when spring is done

and when the earth runs dry, digs deep

to sip each drop its roots can keep?

What lily blooms beyond the frost,

once ice assails and hope lies lost?

Whose trembling hand will reach to save

such fragile beauty from the grave?

How can a forest loom so still?

The air feels empty, and the trill

of birdsong goes to silent plea,

a ghost inside a memory.

The beauty fades too fast, too fast.

Peace moves in slowly, rushes past.

Where lies the power to brave the squall,

to seek the blossom under all?

I must believe and always will––

the tree, the branch, the bloom, the trill,

and all the beauty of each soul

reside in Christ, who makes us whole.

The power is in His loving hands

to fit us for this world's demands,

sustain us by His selfless grace,

and ease us in His warm embrace.

What is my part? To plant in me

the branch, the bloom, the stalwart tree.

∞§∞

"O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that

covereth thy hiding place?" –D&C 121:1

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