“Synthesis,” Ensign, Aug. 1984, 7


    When red and blue and green come in

    From the outer rim of the color wheel,

    And from them violet, orange, gold

    Become, then cease, and all is still;

    And the whirl of the wheel has died away,

    And harmony has culminated,

    The synthesis is perfect light

    Its facets known yet sublimated.

    When body and spirit with fervent faith

    Are fired, cooled, then fired again;

    Genesis, life, awareness, death,

    The whole awhirl, the fire aflame;

    When all the dross is floated off,

    And ballast tossed for purest flight,

    Then shards of joy will coalesce,

    Pouring forth celestial light.