“Who is it that takes,
the better to give?
What is the rope that’s
loosened in knotting?
When will there blow
the Seventh trumpet?
Where is the space
where two roads join?
Why did the God appear
as a beggar?
How does a seed know
when to grow?”
You seeker, you hoper,
you floater,
interrogator,
questioner, doubter,
judge, warden,
executioner,
you who love truth:
show me the question
whose answer stills a
mind.
Herr Professor, you who spout
gleeful ink
on your tissue-paper
margins,
who interpret with
thought alone,
who snuff the candle
and complain of the
darkness:
step from your path
and find a way.
Observer: drop your
telescope
and learn to see.
Swim the ocean of
thought,
and learn its winding
currents.
Waves threaten your
tiny raft,
and no place is safe:
learn to dive.
Call the sea your home,
and never cling to
land.
To drown is not the
worst of fates.
You are free:
fear will imprison you.
Treasures wait in the
depths;
courage alone retrieves
them.
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