Far, far removed from weight conceived by men
Is weight as attribute of love-filled Mind—
As import, worth, power, value, or significance,
Things calculable only by scales divine.
Weighed matter, whether of wood, brick, bubble, or butterfly,
Or flesh, whether sufficient or else superfluous,
Or goods, just or unjust, in or else out of balance,
Is less than breath, for what weight has mirage?
Or how heavy the mere picture of a rock?
A spurious mind, sense-darkened, self-confused,
Assumes for its images substance never there.
Weight understood as spiritual worth
Inherent in thought, word, deed, reflected Love,
Is intelligent, balanced gift of adequate power
To each identified entity in Truth.
All's weighed, all's measured by joy in Spirit's realm,
Each to perfection's purpose formed aright
For staying, floating, soaring, singing—modes
By which Love spells its pleasure in its own.
So men are gladdened, giving righteous weight
To each appearance, vast or small, on earth;
Gladdened by sight of planets in their paths
Majestically held; and yet no less
Are glad seeing bright-winged birds sway on a branch,
Or cradled babe smile gently at the world.
Minute or magnificent, true weight shines through
All that proclaiming Love men see and do.
