In my Proud Humility/The Reason I Have Hands

Last night, I attended a dance ensemble entitled "Transformations." BYU contemporary dancers performed a series of dances under such themes as "Call of the Soul," "Epiphany," and "Ascending Horizons." Usually, this style of dance is lost on me. I used to just be confused by it because I couldn't interpret what they were really going for. I decided to try to think with just the creative side of my brain and see where that took me. They had some thought-provoking quotes and titles that helped make a framework for my perception of the dances. I came away feeling like I had discovered (or perhaps re-discovered) something about myself/life, and when I got back to my dorm, I had an idea for a poem. I'm by no means a literary artist, but I enjoyed writing this, so I thought I'd share. It may eventually undergo some editing, who knows? I guess that's appropriate for something inspired by a dance ensemble entitled "Transformations."

In my Proud Humility/The Reason I Have Hands

Am I ready for this knowledge? Am I allowed to take this path?

Will it elevate and groom me to receive that which thou hath?

I do not understand it, but someday I think I will.

Oh Father, grant me guidance and with light my person fill.

My son, I have not sent you to raise yourself on high;

You must go and serve your brothers and help them where they lie.

Your purpose is not to travel to feared and noble lands.

I did not give you wings, my son. Instead, I gave you hands.

The seraphim of heaven, with hands and sev’ral wings,

Can fly ‘round worlds and do God’s will, through far and distant flings.

And the birds you see are fair and skilled, and through the air they soar,

But an impact they can hardly have without fingers worked and sore.

Thou art given only hands right now, with which to work and give.

Your place is not up in the sky, but the world in which you live.

My job is not to raise myself, but to bring about a change.

The world has need of willing men, peculiar and strange.

So with my Father’s sound advice, my soul now understands:

He did not give me wings to fly, but blessed me with two hands.

(Epilogue!?)

“Forget yourself and go to work,” a prophet’s father said.

“Those who lose their life shall save it,” this wisdom we must spread.

To have “so much the advantage,” we labor hard and long,

But to truly be God’s servants, pure love must be our song.