Antique bed.[1]
Beside a bed he gladly said,
His prayers years ago,
Or knelt
In prayer very near there
At a chest three feet long or so.[2]
A dark room.[3]
In a room his soul to groom,
He went alone in student years.
Dim den,
That praying place to seek God’s face,
With voice and silent tears.
A new floor.[4]
A concrete floor and nothing more
He paced and prayed and praised.
Moonlight,
Satellites, revealed answers sealed;
His prayers with arms upraised.
Southern woods.[5]
Piney woods testified the goods
His inmost man possessed.
In path,
Calmly praying, trees heard him saying,
“Thank You” for meeting needs confessed.
Old school ground.[6]
Abandoned ground his heart next found;
And paths that lay beyond.
Night, Day,
In mattered not, quiet he sought,
Memories of triumphs were fond.
Solitude.[7]
White solitude, cool latitude,
It really doesn’t matter…at all.
Answers,
Pleas, a song (off far from the throng)
To problems gigantic and tall.
– eab, 7/77
[1] Bed at home near Rushville, Ohio as a child.
[2] This would be the cedar chest Dad built when he was 17.
[3] The dingy old Men’s Prayer Room at God’s Bible School.
[4] The (then) new tabernacle (now CEC) at Hobe Sound.
[5] The piney woods behind our house on James Street.
[6] The land west of the old Public School in Paris, Ohio.
[7] The back lot (and park near the house) in Akron.
Separate-Holy 