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An Imperfect Life poetry by Fr. Harold Macdonald |
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The Far Away Hill
Love, an old inferno on a hill, burns still, burns all God’s fire, God’s will.
It consumes all waste suck up the gall sweets the mouth, the taste.
We need to find that one, kind, cruelty among the million lives maligned.
So many bitter deaths! Can another save, as Scripture saith?
Only if it’s God who dies! Only the very Self divine can equalize,
can touch all time purge every suffering life; abysses climb!
That one death proclaims a goodness shared, the name above all names.
From this death, all other life finds breath; The end of hate, of strife.
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