Speak my name; by such utterance I will not pass away.
Unfaithful to my own existence,
An echo of your voice grasps me from the outer darkness.
Translate your law to that feeble language of my heart.
Lure me from the cliff of non-being,
By entrusting others unavoidable drawing you through me.
Rich poverty, mighty weakness, wise ignorance.
Empty me that I might be full.
Safe-guard my heart with a benevolent eruption.
— David Dickens, Nothing Hypothetical
As I wrote the author, "You are so rich you can and do give it all away, just not always being able to see what you're doing. Grace hides our virtues and our vices from us, unless we stubbornly go looking for them."
No comments:
Post a Comment