from "Eleven Addresses to the Lord" by John Berryman

1

Master of beauty, craftsman of the snowflake, inimitable contriver, endower of Earth so gorgeous & different from the boring Moon, thank you for such as it is my gift.

I have made up a morning prayer to you containing with precision everything that most matters. 'According to Thy will' the thing begins. It took me off & on two days. It does not aim at eloquence.

You have come to my rescue again & again in my impassable, sometimes despairing years. You have allowed my brilliant friends to destroy themselves and I am still here, severely damaged, but functioning.

Unknowable, as I am unknown to my guinea pigs: how can I 'love' you? I only as far as gratitude & awe confidently & absolutely go.

I have no idea whether we live again. It doesn't seem likely from either the scientific or the philosophical point of view but certainly all things are possible to you,

and I believe as fixedly in the Resurrection-appearances to Peter and to Paul

as I believe I sit in this blue chair. Only that may have been a special case to establish their initiatory faith.

Whatever your end may be, accept my amazement. May I stand until death forever at attention for any your least instruction or enlightenment. I even feel sure you will assist me again, Master of insight & beauty.

(found here)

There Is A Hand…

There Is A Hand…

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