I do not want to be seen or heard or spoken to. In the house I am grateful if it is empty except for me. Only with wincing do I emerge from my room, even into my wife's presence. I am clean of all desire and passion, clamor has died out in me. I am still and peaceful. I think I exist not in myself but in the air, unseen, as I feel, unliving. I should say, like Merton, that I sense myself in God and do not wish to come out to live again. I have lived and died by my own hand and to come back is to break this pact with myself, once more the crime committed and I again without faith. But in presence of my sin I grow restless and once more turn back to rhythms of silence and alone again take up a pen with which to commit myself for one hour to eternity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMING DOWN TO THE DESERT AT LORDBURG, N.M. by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH NOTES FOR THE FIRST LINE OF A SPANISH POEM by JAMES GALVIN THE STORY OF THE END OF THE STORY by JAMES GALVIN DESIRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |