For Diogenes

Your light looks for an honest man

in ghettos, gutters, and streets.

Your light's ring moves

to find one who never retreats.

The confused, white ball extinguishes with chagrin.

'Twas focused on the outside,

when should have been within.

David R Ellis, PM

How Great a Treasure

Ambitious Young Apprentice asks Old Tyler at the door,

"What means this trove of treasure strewn about the checkered floor?"

He marvels at the jewels, the crowns, stately manors, grand estates,

piled high 'long noble titles, all abandoned there with haste.

There's gold and silver, diadems, the coin of every realm,

and as he runs the tote thereof, the task doth overwhelm.

With troubled mind he turns to Tyler, "Tell me, I implore,

how great a treasure there must be within the inner door."

Wise Old Tyler, Past Master he, how brightly shines his light

as the Word of Truth he gently speaks to ease the young man's plight.

"Why see you treasure among the chaff, the wind has blown aside?

Here is but Temple's rubbish wise men cast down in stride.

There's nothing of importance here. Superfluous all you see.

Such trifles shall not be carried to your Eternity."

Now silently beside the door Old Tyler proudly stands.

The use of gauge and gavel Young Apprentice understands.

Henceforth his duty performed with zeal, his young life self-inspects,

as he shapes his perfect ashlar, Great Light it now reflects.

David R. Ellis, PM

Thy Creator Remember Now

Now's cut the brittle thread of life,

the scythe its havoc wrought.

Behold the mortal coil of man,

to graveside circle brought.

Where mourning friends assembled

shed a sympathetic tear

o'r the grave a spade has opened,

their hearts devoid of cheer.

O kith and kin bereaved behold

mortality in repose.

Such is your own approaching fate.

Dismiss your present woes.

Fix your eyes upon this scene.

Thy Creator remember now.

In your fleeting days of youth,

before Him humbly bow.

For too few and trouble filled

are your own appointed days.

Waste not a precious moment.

Make sure your life displays

the higher thoughts, the nobler deeds,

the love within your heart.

And like our brother honored here,

in peace, this world depart.

David R. Ellis, PM

In Whom Do You Put Your Trust?

Within each man there is a place

shod feet shall ne'er have trod.

A hidden, hallowed, holy place

known but to him and GOD.

There, veiled from judging eyes of man

his very essence thrust.

He opens up his mind and heart,

In whom shall be his trust?

While tempestuous seas around him swirl,

the world tossed to and fro,

His soul retreats within its ark.

Therein his heart shall glow.

With faith the anchor of his thoughts,

he asks as all men must,

"Who am I? Why am I here?

In whom shall be my trust?"

Where shall he the anchor foot

of moral compasses set?

To circumscribe his every act?

His every thought to vet?

What truth shall light the path he treds?

Sudue his wanderlust?

Sublime and sweet, the answer's found

in whom he puts his trust.

With gauge and gavel his passions shaped.

Well polished and adorned his mind.

Upon firm foundation his faith is built,

his cornerstone aligned.

Upon the level must it be laid,

and with plumb and square adjust.

No spiritual temple shall he complete

without a well placed trust.

Into the dark night of the soul

travels each man alone.

And yet the Everlasting Arms

will guide him to the Throne.

With each step of his own free will

and of his own accord,

from shining path he shall not stray

if his trust is in the LORD.

When breaks the dawn of the Endless Day,

From labor takes his respite.

To the undiscovered land sojourns

in search of th' Eternal Light.

His trembling soul, now well prepared,

'tis virtuous, true, and just.

 He humbly offers it to GOD,

In whom he puts his trust.

David R. Ellis, PM

On the Level

Here comes the mayor and the judge,

architect, banker, clerk,

mechanic, merchant, minister,

they're all within our cirque.

Each a spoke on fortune's wheel

entitled to our regard.

Each man upright, just, and true

to tyler presents his card.


Old Tyler stands with sword in hand,

he's seen them come and go.

The best and greatest of the land,

the humble and the low.

Between them, a brotherly grip's exchanged,

a friendly word is passed.

All temporal distinctions disappear.

Within, there is no caste.

On the level they shall meet.

By the plumb shall act.

The inner jewel they learn to greet

and not what's outward lacked.

True bonds of friendship they cement,

diverse though they may be.

All walk the way that Hirum went,

glimpse their Eternity.


Repass the tyler, they emerge

with virtuous square in hand.

Right lessons learnt and duty clear,

well forged their sacred band.

All of one mind, again to mix

with the world, with one another.

No stranger in their travels meet.

Only always see a brother.

David R Ellis, PM

Convergent Paths

Far flung divergent paths converge, at temple’s mount ascend.

They wind their ways throughout each land, embrace each river’s bend.

One path vaults mountain’s purple peak, surveys the world below.

One plumbs the valley’s dismal depths, where thorns and thickets grow.

This path paved with plenty, that path low and mean.

Ahead’s the ford where all paths meet; transcend this earthly scene.

It matters not whence it came, nor where the path did wind.

Each humble, each exalted path, all here their way shall find.

‘Tis in the undiscovered land, across yon threshing floor,

One shining path alone proceeds to the Golden Door.

What light, what peace, what joy awaits on the other side?

And there, how good and pleasant where as brethren all reside!

by David R Ellis, PM

This Trembling Soul

 

Beneath the clouded starry deck, my eyes I upward cast.

Oh Lord! My GOD in heaven! Your creation is so vast.

Upon Your sacred name I call with my dying gasp.

The working tools of life now drop from a nerveless grasp.

Guided by Your trestle board, I crossed life’s checkered floor.

All temporal work completed, I knock upon Your door.

This trembling soul advances before the Great White Throne,

Clothed in lambskin apron white I stand there all alone.

From my broken column spills the archives of my life.

There is found each secret thought, each joy, each care, each strife.

To You my life's an open book. To You my works are slight.

In You I put my trust Great Judge, Your justice I invite.

In Judgment’s Porch as I now wait and there most humbly bow.

My joy comes with the welcome words, “Good Servant Enter Thou.”

by David R. Ellis, PM

From Master's Wages

The orphan’s cry. The widow’s sigh.

The forlorn and rent asunder.

The grieved. The hurt. The helpless folk

a tyrant’s yoke fell under.

The sad. The low. The desperate bloke.

Those the vile did plunder.

To these we heed the duty call,

Its voice as loud as thunder.

Relieve their miseries! Lift up their hearts!

Their burdens must we share!

From master’s wages we impart,

gauged by rule and square.

For even young Apprentice knows,

‘tween faithful breasts are burnt,

as Master’s hat extended,

a striking lesson’s learnt.

Our duty and our joy-- the same.

By Three Great Lights we see,

Great Master’s plans wrought through our hands,

our FAITH, our HOPE, our CHARITY.

David R. Ellis, PM

Who Comes Here?

Who comes here to our chamber door?

Good men were asked in days of yore.

Upon this point, were they received,

that they ne’er practice to deceive.

And as they did there enter in,

a life’s long journey did begin.

To search for that which is to them lost,

more precious bourne, once paid the cost.

Upon their breath, GOD’s Holy Name,

As they did rise, forsook profane.

From moral path they shall not stray.

Perfections Plans now light the way.

As upright men they then there stood

With tools to work the world for good.

And thence departed they in love

To serve and honor GOD above.

David R. Ellis, PM

Behold! A Temple

The Craft is called. The hour is high.
Muster ye men of the Mystic Tie.
Behold! A temple completed find,
by a Brother built as he did climb
the stairs that ever upward wind
to heaven's eternal gates sublime.
His master's piece judged true and square,
an entrance find, our fervent prayer,
that his immortal soul take flight,
and rest in GOD's eternal light.

by David R Ellis, PM