Making The World Familiar - Poem by Daniel Brick
I can see your eyes fixed
on me, so much distance
between us have we crossed.
When we finally close the gap,
there is no need for words: you pour
the pieces into my cupped hands.
Your voice I hear within me:
'Puzzle a picture out of these pieces,
tease the truth from this turmoil.'
It is what was born to hear.
It's as if I must choose a book
at random from a great bookcase,
and it's the right book that I take!
I know the remaining tasks
will test me to my limits. Such is Fate.
Still the next time we meet,
in a season yet to be determined,
we will be the reality of blessed souls.
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