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I Long to Race
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By N/A
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  I Long to Race
I long to race to the highest point
Raise my hands
Be struck by lightning.
I vow to plow the thickest fog
With hope inordinate
Stripped of coordinates.
I yearn for urn of Gilead's balm
A flask of calm
Leaves of palm.
I ache to live beyond my reach
While spell is broken
Eternity breached. 
"All philosophy, all theology that is vitally aware
of its place in the true order of things, aspires to 
enter the cloud around the mountaintop where 
man may hope to meet the Living God. All true
learning should therefore be alive with the sense
of its own limitations and with the instinct for a 
vital experience of reality which speculation alone
cannot provide." 
Thomas Merton, "The Ascent to Truth", p. 59.

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Submitted: Saturday, February 18, 2012

Last Updated: Saturday, February 18, 2012

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