How can you not be lonely, God?
Unfathomable knowledge that together,
If it were an ocean, we could not cross
In our strongest ship before the steel
Would fatigue and buckle at the ribs
Sinking us into what we do not know.
We cobble together words and believe
They are enough to speak your name
Enough to define your wisdom, bind us
To any dimension of our existences
Within which we would only tremble
At the depths of what we do not know.
So instead, I take up residence in a room
Beside your own, knowing a slight sneeze
Would tear down these walls dividing us.
I sit in silence, ever hopeful for a breath
To be heard beyond the beams that hold up
The roof over all that we do not know.
Written after reading ‘You, Neighbor God, if sometimes in the long night’ by Rilke from Book of Hours as translated by Edward Snow and published by North Point Press in New York, 2009
(C) Stephen Fuller, 2019