Virtue lives with you though not always seen
within your mind’s eye you ask “Have I been
of virtue, of loveliness, of good report?”
and conscience guilt-ridden spews out the retort.
“You tried once but failed in this part of your plan
to rise to the fullness and honor of man.”

What is all this crying lamenting my age
as if life approaches my own final page
still lacking the virtue I once thought I knew
when younger and wiseless without any clue.
In chanting the praises of childhood all clean
I now without virtue seek what might have been.

“But wait,” Wisdom whispers, her voice full of love,
“My son it’s within you and thrives like the dove
of a peace so eternal, your eyes will not see
how others have judged something formless in Thee.
If you would have virtue, attain it yourself
it’s there plain within and not up on a shelf

where you dare not reach out of fear of new pain
you placed it there — bring it now out once again.
Wear it with honor and joy, Son of mine
it’s beauty is timeless and adorns oh so fine
the body and soul of each one of my sons
and daughters within whom my influence runs.

Wisdom is virtue and not free of charge
yet given quite readily with no price too large.
To purchase my gift with your life’s precious blood
is to nourish yourself with my life’s loving flood
of a knowing and seeing just how things can be
when virtue calls forth all our love plain to see.”