January 26, 1988. Celo (N.C.) Meeting
His feet walk daily paths, as duties call;
The grass and soil embrace a step that’s kin;
His hands encourage harvest, and to all
His heart sings out, God’s music from within.
Big-boned, he’s made an older-fashioned way than we,
All hands and feet and heart. The child in him
Thrives at the river’s edge, with bush and tree,
Lifewater flowing Light through trunk and limb.
Clouds and hills, spaces between stars that be,
Have taught him shadow’s interplay with light;
His hands are shaped to hold a Mystery
That gives us day but as a bride to night.
Bob Barrus—
Kind student of the moment stolen from work or thought;
That moment of quiet when we’re most deeply taught.
Bob, truly a fine poem that captures the Bob I knew and deepens my sense of him. Thank you, Bob Welsh! Thank you, Bob Barrus!