His intellect was the clear mirror
he looked and saw the machinery of
God assemble itself? It was one that
reflected the emptiness that was where
God should have been. The minds tools
had no power convincingly to put him
together. looking in that mirror was
a journey through hill mist, where the
higher one ascends, the poorer the
visibility becomes. It could have led
to despair but for the consciousness of
a presence behind him, whose breath
clouding the looking glass proved that
it was alive. To learn to distrust the
distrust of feeling-this the was the next
step for the seeker? To suffer himself to
be persuaded of intentions in being other
than the crossing of a receding boundary
which did not exist? To yield to an unfelt
pressure that, irresistible in itself had
the character of everything but coercion?
To believe, looking up to invisible eyes
shielded against love's glare, in ubiquity
of a vast concern.