Living grows round us like a skin, to shut away the outer desolation
For if we clearly mark the furthest deep, we should be dead long years before the grave
But turning around within the homely shell of worry, discontent and narrow joy, we grow and flourish and rarely see the outside dark that would confound our eyes
Some break the shell
I think that they are those who push their fingers through the brittle walls and make a hole
And through this cruel slit they stare out across the cinders of the world with naked eyes
They look both out and in Knowing themselves and too much else besides
“Theme From Mahogany (Do You Know Where You’re Going To)”
Link to the song at the end of the text
Do you know where you're going to
Do you like the things that life is showing you
Where are you going to
Do you know
Do you get
What you're hoping for
When you look behind you
There's no open doors
What are you hoping for
Do you know
Once we were standing still in time
Chasing the fantasies
That filled our minds
You knew how I loved you
But my spirit was free
Laughin' at the questions
That you once asked of me
Do you know where you're going to
Do you like the things that life is showing you
Where are you going to
Do you know
Now looking back at all we've planned
We let so many dreams
Just slip through our hands
Why must we wait so long
Before we'll see
How sad the answers
To those questions can be
Do you know where you're going to
Do you like the things that life is showing you
Where are you going to
Do you know
Do you get
What you're hoping for
When you look behind you
There's no open doors
What are you hoping for
Do you know
An extract of the explanation Malcolm gives about his poem is:
"We sometimes make his love, and the object of his love too small! We diminish and dwindle it down to some small time religious patter about the way we feel. In this sonnet I am trying to be open again to the literally Cosmic dimensions of John 3:16!"
For God So Loved the World
The whole round world, in Greek the total cosmos,
Is all encompassed in this loving word;
Not just the righteous, right on, and religious,
But every one of whom you’ve ever heard,
And all the throng you don’t know or ignore,
For everyone is precious in his sight,
Chosen and cherished, loved, redeemed before
The circling cosmos ever saw the light.
He set us in the world that we might flourish
That His beloved world might live through us
We chose instead that all of this should perish
And turned his every blessing to a curse.
And now he gives himself, as Life and Light
That we might choose in Him to set things right.