Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Knowledge Itself

Knowledge Itself                                                                                        

Imagine a realm where there’s nothing to ponder. 
Not a realm of omniscience, mind you,

but of quiescence; a dousing deeply satisfying –
the flame snuffed out; the pendulum

come (at last) to a dead plumb stop.
For years now my Lord has preached in my wilderness

for His lover to become desireless.
I have strung Him along –

answered His quenching wisdom
with all manner of inquiries, ruminations, suppositions.

Cheekily I have begged to be an exception –
to be taught – though He did not come for that.

Strange to discover after a near-lifetime of searching
that my fondest desire, of which I cannot let go,

is to know within this tiny, mortal,
bone-hard skull of mine Knowledge Itself

and that this wrong-headed obsession
is keeping me from an unstipulated surrender

that would allow all my doubts to die
peacefully unrequited within my mortal frame.

O child of God, you keep coming back to the same
fundamentals you were told from the very first.

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