Poem★★★★
Mysterious in its birth, And viewless as the blast; Where hath the spirit fled from earth, Forever past? I ask the grave below ; It keeps the secret well. I call upon the heavens to show ; They will not tell. Of earth’s remotest strand, Are tales and tidings known; But from the spirit’s distant land, Returneth none. Winds waft the breath of flowers, To wanderers o’er the wave; But bear no message from the bowers Beyond the grave. Proud science scales the skies, From star to star doth roam ; But reaches not the shore, where lies The spirit’s home.
— Malcolm
The point
A poem contemplating death's mystery: the grave, heavens, and distant lands remain silent about the fate of the human spirit; even science cannot penetrate the realm beyond.
Scripture
1 Corinthians 13:121 Corinthians 15:50-57
Audience
Adults
Tone
Contemplative · Mysterious
To tell aloud
under a minute · 101 words