now it’s november; the world grows cold
once when i was young and full of myself
i tried to imagine
the nuances of human nature
how swiftly a life runs away
born away by the violent
disappointed idealists
they all had stories
but maybe that’s wishful thinking …
inside my mind exists another world
and here i must retreat to make sense of anything
lying cold beneath the covers
stilling my own voice
oh, what if it doesn’t work?
a toxic tonic
daylight and nightmare …
i strain my eyes and crane my neck
a garden wall
dirty face
the ground beneath my feet gives way
“i wish i were brave”
nothingness terrifies; incarnation absolves
sins made obsolete …
and when i woke i thought
what are we if death were not killed?
the last time i saw You
i thought my heart would burst with beauty
i’m tired of water
instead give me wine
but one day You will raise Your wineglass
and all the hungry shall be filled
once upon another lifetime
i’d like to ask You everything …
till we have faces
we await resurrection
but if i believe in a God Who loves me past the point of death
some things remain unchanged
for these, Lord, i give You thanks
a haven for a heart’s poor yearning
(and so through the night spake the poet)
