Quiet Plea

November 16, 2013 2:52 pm EST

To what value is faith when it avails so little? Show me the hidden secrets that keep me from my path. I know your face; your face is kind and good. Your face is beneficence. And yet with all the kindness I see clearly in your eyes, you speak not. You taunt me; you haunt me; you leave me imperiled and alone. Close, yet impossibly far from the wisdom of but a word.

A solitary word and I would be healed;
But I am met only with your silent hand.
You are the force of correction, of wisdom,
But utter lovelessness.

Why do you force me to choose between dim and bright?
Why do you keep hidden from me your perfect form?

But one word,
And I would be healed.

And you remain silent to me?


Type: Poetry

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