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We all have a human responsibility and a duty to perform and execute.
I am convinced that our Maker has assigned to each of us a purpose.
The subject matter of purpose is very interesting with broad perimeters,
but it becomes more intriguing and far more challenging if one should
undertake the inviting task of revealing what lies within those boundaries.

Would it be fare to salty or fresh waters if I withheld the inhabitants of the 
fish? The earth is beautiful all by itself, but far less without the presence of its mortals. The open sky would be a big blob of space were there no glaring 
lights of the nights. It is the duty of Poets to define, describe, and display, not merely to report what they see.                                                               

The True Poet may or may not be a prophet, but for certain, a coward, a puppet, and reporter he is not. He sees the water, but also steam, ice, snow, and glaciers as large as states 'most stunning'. He sees the earth of breathtaking and awesome beauty, but he weeps over the decay of mortals. He sees vast skies of mostly blue and white clouds of calm.

He too has great respect for some dark clouds and flooding rains, but 
his hope is solid and overshadowed by the security blanket of The Cross.     
Perhaps he is a combination realist and optimist, but a pessimist he is not, and yes, he has fears and doubts like the rest of us, but you will never see    or hear him shouting, "The sky is falling!"

100620PSCtest, A Poet's Duty, Beth Evans. 4P

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