Beyond the Tip of Mystery

    “Beyond the Tip of Mystery,” Ensign, Jan. 1987, 21

    Beyond the Tip of Mystery

    Probing beyond the tip of mystery

    Into all greatnesses without surcease,

    I stretched and bent to snatch from history,

    To draw from art, a vision of true peace.

    I searched wars, treaties, wars again,

    The heights and fathoms of life’s temporal flood,

    But found no quiet thing: the hands of men

    Shook with the restlessness of flesh and blood.

    Till from a wandering stream arose the sweet

    of peace, and from the furrows of a plow,

    And from the eager flowing of grown wheat

    And gentle blowing of a blossomed bough.

    In all the rich intangibles of home

    Was peace that penetrated to my soul:

    I marvel that a thing so great is but

    The nectar from the common and the small.