• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 07


As you close your eyelids in prayer,
The silent music of an accordion
Arches across the sky. What is there
But an empty promise after the storm?

Yet you see nothing and you expect
Nothing, surrendering all attitudes.
A mere child sees more in mere fact,
And less in mere truth than you ever do.

He beholds the bright promise bend,
Longing for paradise, tempted to choose
The yonder beyond for this hither end—
That Something to gain, this Nothing to lose.