I emerge from the mind’s
cave into the worse darkness
outside, where things pass and
the Lord is in none of them.
 
I have heard the still, small voice
and it was that of the bacteria
demolishing my cosmos. I
have lingered too long on
 
this threshold, but where can I go?
To look back is to lose the soul
I was leading upwards towards
the light. To look forward? Ah,
 
what balance is needed at
the edges of such an abyss.
I am alone on the surface
of a turning planet. What
 
to do but, like Michelangelo’s
Adam, put my hand
out into unknown space,
hoping for the reciprocating touch?

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