God departs, and it feels like the world,
He contracts, and it feels like the city,
I’m annulled because it feels like the people we know,
The journeys we take, the lies we speak, the incoherence of our deeds.
God’s left, leaving nothing of himself,
But for the reality we inhabit,
But for the blindness of our wandering.
Yet within that reality, there’s broken me,
And there are sweet instances,
Truth in the companion,
Remembered like a prayer,
The remembered companion,
The remembered instances,
That comprise a divine life.