Hand, why do you tremble?
Why do you draw back, hesitate?
For months you have assembled
This jigsaw of truth. Piece by piece.
Can’t you lay them out and place them down
Before those who first evoked such fear?
And what of fear? What calls it up?
They are not hearers, but sneerers and will
Find a way to break apart the pieces I have
Pieced together in the dark.
Yet it is not dark, but light. And knowing the
Dark has been my source of light.
Funny how dark seems light and
Light seems dark. Because
The light breaks up the dark and reveals it
Utterly senseless.
Thus, in the dark there is sense,
And in the light only the sense that the
Dark has no sense at all.
Soul, I cannot mend with sense
That which is rent without it.
1 October 2019