127

date: 1920-03-29

names-on-the-page: Mrs. Collins; Mrs. Brolaski

transcription: March 29, 1920 - Page 6

It was now Mrs. Collins' turn. She received this:

-The Sacrifice-

The day is a strange thing.
I cannot companion with it.
Men go chattering by and labors teem
About me and I, apart, seem cloaked
Hooded. I would hide. I would pin
My heart in a purple cloth
And sew it with a silver thread.
I would hide it.

What do they, who idly chatter on,
Know of it? Or the holy sacrament within in?
I have consecrated it, I have made it
A sacrifice. Then would I place it
In a purple cloth and sew it
With a silver thread, laying it
Upon the fire of my love, watching it
Ascend as a white smoke mingling
With the where.

The day is a strange thing.
I cannot companion with it.
I can be brother to my brother,
But announce my sorrow openly? Nay,
I would bind my heart within a purple cloth
And sew it with a silver thread,
Laying it upon the sacrificial fire
Of my love.

Mrs. Brolaski was next and received this:

-The Ever-smiling God-

To me the God is never frowning.
See him, upon the fields, splotch
Scarlet poppies in the gold! Loose
The yellow-winged moths to flit,
Cast a myriad rainbow shades
Upon the hillock ways. Loose a thousand
Carols from the wooded ways,
Dash the streams, teeming gold, unto the sea,
Or make them pale and silver,
Threading beneath a listless moon.

Watch Him scatter from His
Fingers' tips the stars, blowing them
As down across the arched way.
Watch Him fling the sun,
In an instant of His joy, up
From the East, scarlet, burning, fiery
From His touch! Watch Him at the midnight

Con'd

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