Saturday, March 11, 2017

The Pain of Nothingness

Plunging into pointlessness day
After day, diminishing to insignificance
In anguish (a straw swept on by the desert wind;
A cork on the frightening sea; a child lost
In a crowd startled by sudden glimpse of self,
His pain of panic and isolation, bewildered
Stares at the passers-by, seeks one form
Familiar, the hand he held, one face, one voice),
I walk in a world not mine, too big to possess,
         Too fleeting to understand.

Called into solitude, called by a voice
Familiar, held by a hand well known, led
To solitude’s reverse, to fellowship,
To oneness with He-who-is, I walk in a world
Made mine. Inserted where heartbeats rise, where eyes
Startled behold the Face so longed-for, bewildered
Man finds himself. The world’s too small for man:
O freedom from the small! The human heart’s
A mystery too terrifying to plumb, a point
         Too God-close to understand.

~a Carthusian monk

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