Lord,
Though I feel farthest from thee,
I must challenge it, the feeling.
For by one cross You have drawn near
in a way unchallengeable by my hand
by any hand
by any frame
by any act
by any love.
You are Alpha and Omega,
Author and Perfecter,
the Hope of glory and Glory itself.
Lord God, how would I know thee,
save by thy hand?
Know myself saved by thy hand,
without your whispers, sweet joys?
I dare not become a stoic:
I too greatly fear the absence of emotion.
So too do I fear its tyranny,
and the tyranny of reason
though neither will I flee from it.
I fear imagination as well, for it
appears less controllable and yet also
less external.
Perhaps this makes it true;
as a rule, it makes it wondrous.
I fear my own head, but I know nowhere else to think.
I fear my own heart, but know nowhere else to feel.
I fear my own imagination, yet know no other way to seek.
Where else can I go, my Lord? You are the spring of eternal life:
That I would find thee, stumble upon thee, in all of me-
this is my feeble prayer,
Amen
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