I will give him forgiveness
when he ventures
and stumbles,
and I will stand by him;
I will be his steady rock,
take him in my pocket on travels,
unravelling mysteries
(that is my profession).
I will take him to worship
in the House of Love,
to teach those impoverished
but by nomeans unworthy;
I will give him wide berth,
an open field
in which to express
in letters and pictures,
in music,
to sing his song, compose harmonies,
one, tenor, for him,
-- and a higher harmony for her,
and she will sing with him,
and he will know her heart,
and thus know his own;
and they will know the mystery
that begat all mysteries,
and they will wed
and explore the wayward world
and seek its corners and tiny places
for the mystery
that ends all mysteries.
and when she passes
into folds of white sheet,
he will remember me and call to me,
the one he held high, always higher than his own head.
but for once,
I will not answer.
and he will grieve;
he will mourn my loss
as he mourns her loss,
and then he will know
that knowing mysteries
does not a life complete,
but resting in the silence one
has dug out of the raucous world.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
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