The Little Gates of Life

I have always enjoyed looking down paths and through gates and arches. They seem to me to be an invitation to the unknown, a road trip for the soul. They are examples of the extraordinary that is often within the ordinary.
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This particular arch is behind one of my favorite places, an old chapel in my hometown of Grass Valley, California.
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This poem reminds of that same feeling – an unexpected revelation.
A Little Gate to God

 

In the castle of my soul
Is a little postern gate,
Whereat, when I enter,
I am in the presence of God.
In a moment, in the turning of a thought,
I am where God is. This is a fact.
The world of men is made of jangling noises.
With God it is a great silence.
But that silence is a melody Sweet as the contentment of love,
Thrilling as a touch of flame.
When I enter into God, All life has a meaning.
Without asking, I know;
My desires are even now fulfilled,
My fever is gone
In the great quiet of God.
My troubles are but pebbles on the road,
My joys are like the everlasting hills,
So it is when I step through the gate of prayer
From time into eternity.
When I am in the consciousness of God my fellow men are not far off and forgotten, but close and strangely near.
Those whom I love Have a mystic value.
They shine, as if a light were glowing within them.
So it is when my soul steps through the postern gate
Into the presence of God.
Big things become small, and small things become great.
The near becomes far, and the future is near.
The lowly and despised is shot through with glory . . .
God is the substance of all revolutions;
When I am in him, I am in the Kingdom of God
And the Fatherland of my Soul.
Peace,
Gary