The Corner




A prayer well known and repeated,

and repeated, the mind focused on the words,

on the words, becomes an internal ceremony,

with little room, and then no room

for another thought; sooner or later

comes the moment when the focus is lost,

the words are lost, when the internal chant

comes up empty, comes to silence;

better silence than the meaning lost.

But when the words are lost,

across that vacant moment,

an image will follow, of Divinity,

of a sacred place, of Benevolence

accepting the devotion of a

weary humanity, prone to loss

of focus and of meaning, to the

wavering use of words, tending to

obscure and not to illuminate.

The silence becomes a light,

the silence turns to light,

that the loss might be redeemed;

picture without words, the figure

surprised in the clearing, become

as a candle of sunlight, by the breath

of contemplation turned to action,

so the loss of words may come to nothing.

– This poem appears in the July 10 print issue of NR.