Tuesday, July 12, 2005
QUOTE
Perhaps I have no God- what does it matter?
I have beautify and joy and transcending loneliness,
I have the beginning of love - as beautiful as it
is feeble - as free as it is human.
I have the mountains that whisper secrets
held before men could speak,
I have the ocean that etches life on
the beach and caresses it in the sand,
I have a friend who smiles when he see
me, who weeps when he hears my pain,
I have a future full of surprises, a
present full of wonder
I have no past - the steps have disappeared
the wind has blown them away.
I stand in the Heavens and on earth,
I feel the breeze in my hair,
I can drink to the North Star and shout
on a bar stool,
I can feel the teeth of a hangover, the
joy of laziness,
The flush of my own rudeness, the surge of
my own ineptitude.
And I can know my own gentleness as well
my wonder, my nobility
I sense the call of creation, I feel its
swelling in my jaws.
I can lust and love, eat and drink, sleep
And rise,
But my easy God is gone - and in his stead
the mystery of loneliness and love!
From Leaving the Fold p. 180
Perhaps I have no God- what does it matter?
I have beautify and joy and transcending loneliness,
I have the beginning of love - as beautiful as it
is feeble - as free as it is human.
I have the mountains that whisper secrets
held before men could speak,
I have the ocean that etches life on
the beach and caresses it in the sand,
I have a friend who smiles when he see
me, who weeps when he hears my pain,
I have a future full of surprises, a
present full of wonder
I have no past - the steps have disappeared
the wind has blown them away.
I stand in the Heavens and on earth,
I feel the breeze in my hair,
I can drink to the North Star and shout
on a bar stool,
I can feel the teeth of a hangover, the
joy of laziness,
The flush of my own rudeness, the surge of
my own ineptitude.
And I can know my own gentleness as well
my wonder, my nobility
I sense the call of creation, I feel its
swelling in my jaws.
I can lust and love, eat and drink, sleep
And rise,
But my easy God is gone - and in his stead
the mystery of loneliness and love!
From Leaving the Fold p. 180