Monday, May 27, 2013

Outside of Thought

You have to write through it. And then you do and it all becomes clear. There are no mistakes outside of thought. I walk in the rain without a wife or lover and am joined instead by Christ, who steps quietly beside me in fading light. Oh green, oh spring maples, oh lovely newts scurrying to avoid our feet and the dog's feet too.

How many stories I have told! How many lies and truths commingle and then fall behind like nails abandoned by a hammerless carpenter. The twenty sentences are not what you think! There is no you in them and never was. How clear it is, or can be, when one is ready.

Walking until it is dark you feel the envelope slip away and the mail you are within unfold beneath his sacred eyes. At last I am read! How many women have praised my writing and shared their ankles and shoulders! How many bad writers have sent their sentences and lines, pleading for help! What can one say but thank you?

I ascend slowly as night falls up to where the rain starts. You want to reach the source of thought - it's not what you think. We remain strangers but not to the One who knows. And that doesn't mean what you think it means either but no worries. It takes a long time to get the pronouns where he wants them.

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