I am called to prayer

I orient my mind


to understand the infinity of you:

fragments, half-syllables, silence


spirals that twist, curl, build

like clouds, like storms, like life


a fountain spraying chaos and rainbows

or a single droplet, clear and pure


this is the substance

with which I bathe my eyes


a substance

indistinguishable from tears


I bow my head:  This is

the impossibility of knowing


the infinity

of you.


Susan Smith Nash

October 16, 2001