My cup is brimmed with uncertainty

            And its vapors

            Cloud the clarity of my mind.

I beg for truth and solidarity,

            Then, pressing the cup to my lips

            Its bitterness causes me to reel

And I know that I do not know.


Why is the beauty of the world

            Wasted on unseeing eyes

            And steps mount up to carry

                        Me to useless places?

Why do the true chimes of my heart

            Fail to reach the slightly hearing ears,

            When all discordant notes ring true

            And clear

            When every ear becomes all-hearing?


Why does God not say thus and so

            Here erase my doubts and wonder

            And give each step of foot and mind

                        A direction without question?


Is it because my mind has built a wall

            Whose stone is want

            And whose wet mortar is the prejudice of my will,

            Whose packed clay is made

                        More firm

            By taking steps upon the path I want to go?


It must be this.

For look at all the others

            Who found their way

                        Their place

                        Their form

And know no darkness nor do battle with their mind.