We must not force events, but rather make <br />The heart soil ready for their coming, as <br />The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring, <br />Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost, <br />Prepares for Winter. Should a July noon <br />Burst suddenly upon a frozen world <br />Small joy would follow, even tho' that world <br />Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting <br />Of sharp December pierce the heart of June, <br />What death and devastation would ensue! <br />All things are planned. The most majestic sphere <br />That whirls through space is governed and controlled <br />By supreme law, as is the blade of grass <br />Which through the bursting bosom of the earth <br />Creeps up to kiss the light. Poor puny man <br />Alone doth strive and battle with the Force <br />Which rules all lives and worlds, and he alone <br />Demands effect before producing cause. <br /> <br />How vain the hope! We cannot harvest joy <br />Until we sow the seed, and God alone <br />Knows when that seed has ripened. Oft we stand <br />And watch the ground with anxious brooding eyes <br />Complaining of the slow unfruitful yield, <br />Not knowing that the shadow of ourselves <br />Keeps off the sunlight and delays result. <br />Sometimes our fierce impatience of desire <br />Doth like a sultry May force tender shoots <br />Of half-formed pleasures and unshaped events <br />To ripen prematurely, and we reap <br />But disappointment; or we rot the germs <br />With briny tears ere they have time to grow. <br />While stars are born and mighty planets die <br />And hissing comets scorch the brow of space <br />The Universe keeps its eternal calm. <br />Through patient preparation, year on year, <br />The earth endures the travail of the Spring <br />And Winter's desolation. So our souls <br />In grand submission to a higher law <br />Should move serene through all the ills of life, <br />Believing them masked joys.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/preparation/
