Did the skies fall back in the years of my life
like a withdrawing army, that the truths I
held in childhood became greyer with age?
I thought I needed a hand in the weaning of
wisdom, like a slow grail that I sipped from;
its cornucopia not apparent; was it, then, ably
dependable, like an invisible grace to count
on; when I never realised who I could count on?
There is a steeple in the distance, which I walk
to, determinedly, that disappears in the clouds!
And I seem to think, anything I aspire for vanishes
like a mirage of an oasis, leaving me with empty
parched sands! How can a deliverer deliver himself
from such inaccessibility, If he must wear the robes
of his own selflessness, and endeavour to manifest
his own flagellation to redeem the rest??! And must he
be blinded and visionary? Must he be foolish and
foolhardy? Must he be supine and unbending? Must
he be a coward and be brave? Must he be victorious
in defeat? And should I know better than that Dad is
waving out to me from an untethered bastion, and telling
me that I have always been courageous and righteous all along?!!!
