I want an explanation;
The dew falls and rises without a sound.
Once I just had to tell the truth.
Now I'm grateful for even a word.
Sometimes, all alone, I listen.
When I hear nothing, joy is near.
I can't go to the big church anymore,
I got caught using the wrong metaphor.
The end of life is like its beginning;
We don't know the name of the one we cry out to.
Len says, These words are the best I can do for now
The poem I wanted to write was already inside you.
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