Saturday, December 5, 2015

The silence of which You spoke

The silence of which You spoke

It began on a whim, You say -
Creation merely God's game.

I try to reconcile this
with what You also said -

no one suffers in vain.
True freedom, again You say,

is the raison d'etre including,
presumably, freedom from suffering;

freedom from the whims of God.
There is nothing to add from this

one small mouth on the planet, looking up
into a night sky going on forever.

Perhaps, this is the silence
of which You spoke,

coming to the end of hope,
reasonableness, accommodation;

where love begins, but how, o Lord?
I'm not feeling it kick in.

Where do I turn from here?
The earth is round; I am unable

to step over its edge and plummet
into Your timeless, infinite point of view.

O child of God, blow out your candle
to experience the true essence of the night.

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