It is so very hard to portray the Holy Trinity. Every Christian must do so at some time in their missionary work. The title of this piece is my best effort at capturing the Trinity in as few words as possible.
The Poet and Poem are obviously the Father and the Son, and proceeding from them both is the Poetry, which is the beautiful meaning, the goodly spirit of the poem, that truth which is left when all the words are scourged and torn away, when the poem halts, when silence descends, and when the Poem returns to the Poet’s good keeping.
(A word here for the medium in which the Poem is borne. Only the purest and whitest medium will do. The Poet has chosen one sheet only from his vast stock)
Oh yes, and this isn’t some common or garden poem. This is the greatest Love poem that it is possible to draft, unmatchable by anyone else, in Heaven or Earth.
How fortunate are we, the truly undeserving audience, as we are treated again and again to this tremendous recital of lovingness, re-presented lest we forget, until the Moon fails.