Читать книгу Ripples of Stillness - Father Ralph Wright - Страница 8

Distance must not despair us in our pain,

boned material beings that we are;

distance, the space between us, must divide

to keep us different, whether near or far.

But words come welding through the lonely air

oneing us against the constant slide

to isolation — hypodermic thoughts,

needles against our lapse towards despair.

They writhe incisively and can confide

the seethingness to me of being you,

like molten gold cleaving the ice of space

we taste a moment's oneness, being two.

How strange our dignity: a few scrawled lines

secreted from a cage of crumbling bone

prevent the fragmentation of mankind

and keep us always only half-alone.