Looking Back

In March 1940, this beautiful poem by Norman Brick was featured highlighting the wait for call up papers.  

Waiting to be Called Up

By Norman Brick

No more I’ll go unheeding down a road,

Ev’n though ‘tis of the meanest kind.

My eager mind shall take the fullest load

Of every stuff it there may find.

Too long now has my vision been content

With but a fleeting glimpse of things;

Nor has my hearing been so closely bent

To know how full creation sings.

And when the clouds that over us had hung,

Loosed down its storm-blast on our seas;

Too late I mourned for all the hours ill-flung,

And wasted opportunities.

But now I’ll take and hold the smallest breath

Of beauty that the world can give.

And I can smile at how the thought of death

Helps so to teach me how to live.

Previous: The Ministry of Listening

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