Believe me when I tell you . . .

I am lost, and you are, too. If you don't know that you are lost, then I am a little less lost than you, for at least I know that I do not know where I am, whereas you persist in striding confidently from you-know-not-where into you-know-not-what.

It is only when we recognize our essential lostness that we come to see that much finding is shamming, most security is trickery, for there is no shame in not knowing, only shame in falsity.



Wednesday, April 27, 2011

I saw a snowflake falling by

I saw a snowflake falling by
It seemed to find its way by feel
Into a hollow of my heart
That harbors up my secret fear.

I saw the snowflake strike and slide
Across a window warmed inside
And thus reduced, a droplet drip
Into a puddle brown and wide

(Brown cold and wide as the night,)
So sinking rippled from my sight.

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