When I consider how my days are spent
In company of God — singing His praise
First in my heart and then in written lays
For other lovers and sweet friends’ enjoyment,
I wonder at such fortunate employment,
Such happy days, such happy, happy days
Out in the fresco of beforetime maze
Called living — sure, clear without argument.
These are the days that in the years to come
Men will inquire of — probing every word
He spoke, seeking the meaning of each look
And gesture recorded. Some this, and some
That, will find — some, agreement; some discord:
Some will build churches, some will write a book!
— (from a letter from Meherazad, December 4, 1959)
