Leave room in your heart for the Mystery.
Come, let's away to prison:
We two alone will sing like birds in a cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing,
I'll kneel down,
And ask of thee forgiveness:
so we'll live,
and pray, and sing,
and tell old tales, and laugh
at gilded butterflies ...
and take upon us the mystery of things,
as if we were God's spies ...
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.