A Masonic Poem

The Last Proficiency
by Bro. Owen Lorion, 1/22/2008

When you take your last demit to that Great Lodge in the sky
Where St. Peter is the Tyler, don't make him ask you why
You're there to gain admittance for the remnant of your soul;
Instead you should be listed already on the roll.

When your proficiency is taken by Senior Deacon, good St. John,
You should be prepared to answer what you did 'fore you passed on.
He won't care about the money that you spent for bonds or stocks,
But the care you spent for others overwhelmed by life's hard knocks.

There won't be any question of the kind of car you owned
But if you used it to help others who were elsewise bound to home.
You won't be asked your social class, nor what salary you earn,
But if you dealt both fair and square with others in your turn.

There won't be any question of the value of your house,
But if you loved your children, and treated kind your spouse.
You won't be asked about the stuff you owned while here on earth
But if that stuff owned you, by the illusion of its worth.

The costly clothes won't matter, that line your closet's walls
Nor all the dollars that you spent in fancy stores and malls;
But rather what you gave away to succor the distressed,
For what you gave with charity, for that you will be blessed.

You won't be asked about your job, or rank, or work
But only if you did your best, and didn't dodge or shirk.
You won't be asked about your lofty titles or degrees,
But if the world was bettered in using your abilities.

No question will be asked of who, important, you may know,
But if you were a friend to those both greater and below;
For those who hate their fellow man for class or creed or race
Are unlikely to be comfortable to see the Master's face.

You won't be asked the words of all the rituals you know,
But if you know the meanings of the morals that they show.
For the passes, signs, and handshakes are but emblems here below;
We'll not need them in that Great Lodge where we one day hope to go.

There won't be any question of how handsome you may be,
But if you have a happy, helpful personality
For the deeds you do for others while in this mortal Lodge
Will determine your admittance to the Heavenly Lodge of God's.

Yes, the questions will be many, let your answers then be bold
That you fitly be admitted to the Lodge, and there behold
The Master with his gavel, and your brothers one and all
Who have trod the path before you to gain entrance to this hall.

There the Architect Supreme, who put the Universe in place,
Will welcome you with honor to this sacred Lodge of Grace
Where every man's a Brother, and every Brother is a friend
And the toils of life are over, and the glories never end.


I lifted this poem from a Brother's Blog. Brother Owen has mor poetry here.