Not one crumb
Words fail me.
I’m tempted to wipe this page clean
like clearing tiles from a board game.
Not one thing do I know
of the great secrets and mysteries.
Not one crumb. Meanwhile I continue
allowing myself to be methodically stripped of fear
in a process far beyond my understanding and abilities.
‘Allowing’ a presumption, perhaps, an illusion –
in reality an ungovernable aspect of my awakening.
My choice (if I have one) is between love and fear
(fear is the culprit!) a conflict within my heart and head –
to battle strident and self-glorious my illusory enemies
or to fall silently on my Lord’s terrible outstretched sword.
O child of God, words fail you because you
speak of things you know so little about.