Meditations on the Nature of Love July 20, 2010
Unbidden, in contemplation,
joy comes:
rain washing away
a tired summer’s day.
Unsought, yet found,
joy comes.
Peace tranquil,
still, and silent.
I do not understand God.
Often do I forget,
but when I do, he kindly
reminds me in his way.
Can a painting understand its artist?
A book understand its author?
A song its singer?
A program its programmer?
What is understanding anyway?
Can we every truly know another?
Or do we always see faintly;
through a glass darkly?
I do not understand God.
But whence comes this
quiet ineffable all-consuming
tranquil resolute joy?
Is it my creation?
A mind’s doing,
to pass the time while
observing a piece of bread?
It could be.
I do not understand God.
I would do well to remember:
if I did, it would not be God I understood.
So I understand.
The test of faith
lies in this uncertainty:
that love cannot go under the microscope.
If it could, it would not be love.