Tuesday, July 01, 2008


[First published in Sobornost, 1986]

A monk taught me to tie them. He
was taught by a monk, and
he in turn another monk before him,
like mirrors reflecting in
each other Silence.

They process their two-thread path
a single cord folded in on itself and wound,
distinguishable ends inextricable. They tie
the knotter in her own gnarled thoughts
twisting straight to stillness.

Did those
who refused Chalcedon think on knots
they fingered; engaged and indwelt, wonder
that description of a thing so simple
meant free-fall through speechlessness?

And if knots, what of incarnation?


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