The Portal of the Mystery of Hope by Charles Peguy

You may wonder, you may ask yourself:  But how is it

That this fountain of Hope flows eternally,

That it gushes eternally, that it springs eternally

That it flows eternally,

Eternally young, eternally pure.

Eternally fresh, eternally flowing.

Eternally living.

Where does this child get so much pure water

and so much clear water.

So much gushing, so much surging.

Does she create it?  As she needs it?

– No, says God, I am the only one who creates.

– So where does she get all this water.

For this gushing fountain.

How is it that this eternal fountain

Gushes eternally.

That this eternal spring

Springs eternally.

There must be a secret there somewhere.

Some sort of mystery.

For this spring to remain eternally untroubled by the thick.

by the heavy autumn rains.

For it eternally to keep from running dry

during the blazing heat of July.

– My good people, says God, it’s not tricky.

Her mystery is not tricky.

And her secret is not complicated.

If she wanted to make pure springs out of pure water,

If she wanted to make spring of pure water,

Then she’d never find enough of it, in (the whole of) my creation.

Because there’s not a whole lot of it.

But it’s precisely with the impure water that

she makes her springs of pure water.

And that is the reason she never runs out.

But that’s also why she is Hope.

How does she go about making pure water

from impure water,

Young water from old water,

Young days from old days.

New water from used water.

Springs from old water.

Fresh souls from old souls.

Fountains of soul from old soul.

Cold water from lukewarm water.

Woe to he who is lukewarm.

Young mornings from old evenings.

Clear souls from troubled souls.

Clear water from troubled water.

Cloudlike water, childlike souls from used souls.

Rising souls from setting souls.

Flowing souls from stagnant souls.

How does she accomplish this, how does she go about it,

That, my children, is my secret.

Because I am her Father.

New souls from souls that have outlived their service.

New days from days that have outlived their service.

Limpid souls with troubled souls.

Rising souls with setting souls.

Limpid days with troubled days.

If it were limpid days that she made limpid days.

If it were with souls, with clear water that she made her springs.

From clear water that she made clear water.

If it were from pure souls that she made pure souls,

Heavens, that would be nothing.  Anyone could do as much.

And there wouldn’t be any secret to it.

But it’s sullied water, old water, stale water.

Because it’s from an impure soul that she makes a pure soul

and that’s the most beautiful secret in the whole garden

of the world.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s