"Seek higher ground,
Turn not a backward glance ;
Your safety is on yonder mountain height."
Thus spake the angel visitors.
The wife of Lot turned one last longing look
Toward the place she once called home beloved,
And, so the story goes,
Became a monument of salt.
Today are those who dwell in bygone years,
And turn, nostalgic, to a happier past
Until, engulfed in salty tears
Of pity and of vain regret,
Their thoughts seem crystallized,
And so—stand still.
Seek higher ground!
It never is too late.
The way is found through unselfed love.
This is the only solvent
That can set you free and melt
This stony pose of monumental grief.
The forward step, the upward look,
The hand stretched out to help
A brother man, this is Love's healing way.
The past is God's, the future mounting bright.
His light and truth will lead
To sacrificial altars,
And to sacred tabernacles
Upon His holy hill of joy.
Oh, look not back!
