I used to panic not feeling Your touch,
but now I know – You’re only adjusting Your grip.
You have Your hand on me!
That’s the rare kernel of this odd, random life;
my comfort in this dreamscape
of impairment, bewilderment and fear.
I’ve gladly forked over all my cash.
The truth will come out in the end.
Someone will be by to collect my ticket.
I’ll give him the one You purchased.
Authorities will ask for my papers.
We’ll find out who I really am.
Darkness gathers as the train hurtles
toward the outer provinces;
the cold sharpens; tongues become stranger
and more raucous.
I panic when I get the notion I’m a lone traveler.
I don’t know where I’m going! But Your valise is by the window.
Your scent lingers in the narrow compartment.
You’ve just stepped out for a bit of air.
O child of God, you want freedom from pain.
Love is an acid that dissolves everything you hold dear.
(from A Jewel in the Dust)