An untitled poem by Roger Wilson


The Spirit that we seek is that of God
It isn't Quaker notions (yours, ...or mine)
This faith is living, or it has no worth.
And, living, forms a trust we must not break
Friends, can we live in it?
And it in us?

Impossible? It always felt like this,
Read Fox, or Penn or Woolman. Nothing's changed.
They found a Spirit, and it needs no name
(perhaps because the letter often kills),
We too can live in it.
And it in us.


When he sent us this poem, Roger Wilson was a member of Godalming Preparative Meeting, in Surrey, England, which is part of Britain YM. He planned to transfer to Liverpool P.M. sometime in 1994.


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