Poyetry

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Night Walking

She'll rise in the night,
And wander to the toilet
In the blackness,
Groping in the dark,
Feeling
Blindly
Tentatively
Feeling for the outlines
And edges –
The chair, the bedside table.
Her fingers build the room
In her mind.

So grope we all in darkness
For the contours
Of what is
True.
We fumblingly
Try
To build up
an image
Of our faith.

Oct. 24, 2007

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