A Lenten Meditation
This is the place of prayer.
Here, where the inward-pointing nails
converge.
The every-narrowing gate
intersection
when the world of time and space
yields up its measured form.
Here in the needle’s eye
Dark upon dark
The aching, echoing void
of the hollowed heart
suspended
at the point of change.
Unknowing
(And that is the agony)
bearing the unknown
to the mystery
at the place of prayer.
May Crowther (pub in Prayer at Night by Jim Cotter)