Written in 1986.
I walked her home to find
A bouquet of roses on her porch.
She asked whose gift it was.
She showed me where
A man from work repaired
Her house, unbidden,
And there stood I,
Composing poems to her,
Unbidden, in my mind.
I said I must get used
To gestures of this kind
To know her inner life.
I asked her what she did
To make these miracles occur
And this Manitoba farmgirl,
Unversed in city games, replied:
Treat others as you would
They treated you.
For as you do to them,
So will they to you in turn.
See with their eyes;
Hear with their ears;
Feel with their heart;
And, with what you find,
Take care of them
As will they you in turn.
Hear not the blaming word,
But listen far below it,
To the secret speaking
And the silent cry.
Then offer what is secretly
And silently requested.
For as you minister to them,
So will they to you in turn.
Her words were nothing new to me
For I have lived a hundred years;
Am heir to thousands.
Worldly wise am I.
But she was young and new to me
And full of promise:
No weight of years was there.
No fear, no interests to protect,
And no pretension.
Nothing but an eye that sees,
An ear that hears,
A heart that gladly gives to others
And openly receives from them in turn.