The hammer that strikes the spark
Needs the anvil that's tempered right
Pliable iron that glows in the dark
Needs tongs to reveal its might.

The larvae before it can fly
Lies soft, passive in its womb
In freedoms heights it cannot ply
'Til inherent power breaks its doom.

The child perfect in the womb
All creations wonders can never know
'Til nature strikes open its tomb
Launching it into life's wonderous flow.

The mind carefully learning every script
Like the crustacean out-grows its shell
Must arise from its broken crypt
In other realms it shall excel. 



Don Murphy©1974



"To him who overcomes I will grant to sit with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His Throne."

Rev. 3:21