I’m still the one who knelt before you
in monk’s robes, wanting to be of use.
You filled him as he called you into being–
a voice from a quiet cell
with the world blowing past.
And you are ever again the wave
sweeping through all things.
That’s all there is. Only an ocean
where now and again islands appear.
That’s all there is: no harps, no angels.
And the one before whom all things bow
is the one without a voice.
Are you, then, the All? and I the separated one
who tumbles and rages?
Am i not the whole? Am I not all things
when i weep, and you the single one, who hears it?
Listen–don’t you hear something?
Aren’t there voices other than mine?
Is that a storm? I am one also,
whipping the trees to call to you.
Are you distracted from hearing me
by some whining little tune?
That’s mine as well–hear mine as well;
it’s lonely and unheard.
I’m the one who’s been asking you–
it hurts to ask–Who are you?
I am orphaned
each time the sun goes down.
I can feel cast out from everything
and even churches look like prisons.
That’s when I want you–
you knower of my emptiness,
you unspeaking partner to my sorrow–
that’s when I need you, God, like food.
Maybe you don’t know what the nights are like
for people who can’t sleep.
They all feel guilty–
the old man, the young woman, the child,
They’re driven through darkness as though condemned,
their pale hands writhing; they’re twisted
like a pack of frenzied hounds.
What’s past lies still ahead,
and the future is finished.
[…] 18, 2007 by Meghan New poem of the week posted today! Check it out and leave your […]
“Maybe you don’t know what the nights are like
for people who can’t sleep.
They all feel guilty–
the old man, the young woman, the child,
They’re driven through darkness as though condemned…”
I tend to think God knows what a sleepless night is like. Maybe He never lay awake with the things that keep me up at night. Maybe it wasn’t fighting demons from His past, or closing His eyes to see images He could never seem to rid Himself of, or maybe He never lay there feeling the pain of knowing there was sin in His heart keeping Him from the Father that kept him from closing His eyes as He lay at night.
But, I think there were sleepless nights. I think there were times of pain and sorrow so deep He could only lay on His side and groan as He wept. I think there were times His eyes could not close because His head held so many sorrows they might overwhelm Him.
I think God knows how I feel at night. Not because of His own sins and past, but because of mine. Because He loved me and came to die for the things that keep me awake and groaning and weeping for at night. I think He knows me and He knows you. With deep love comes deep pain. The more I love someone the more I want for them. I want the very best for those I love. When their choices or some other’s choice gets in the way of the best it causes me pain, too.
I believe when the Creator of the perfect world came down and walked among the men He lovingly fashioned in His image and stood in the places He designed for His glory and felt the pain of this world and knew the corruption in it He wept. I believe that a sorrow as great as my Precious Savior’s would be more than enough to keep him from sleep. It may not be His guilt, but He carried it anyway.
🙂 you should call it POTW – Poem Of The Whenever. 🙂