Wednesday, 18 July 2007

How Long, O Lord

how long, o lord, how long
the months silence-bereft have stretched
their non-attentive branches to heaven
like the shy-whispered curses of children.

I have no daughters of this starving Jerusalem
to weep for their infants, numb and fruitful
only in complacent barrenness.

Therefore, grant me
a living heart from the fathomless abyss
of silent silence, ringing out in praise,

let not even my senses know the gift,
for the greater gift is you.

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