In sorrow you enlarged me

Should I call you by your first name as well
the same way faith calls you its Lord?

You found clay for free half price for the dead end
and you created created humans non-stop.
And now how will the encounter accomodate us all.
For us to enter others need to exit
the small possibilities, in out
become all the rage.

Granted you have given us a vast loneliness
open space, let us meet there.

It works. There is some traffic
but is mostly visited
by some hungry ghosts
who bury their faces in food
deboning our fattened anticipation
cumbered nullified
in the way every satiety nullifies.
The need seizes the best ones
locks itself for hours inside with them hooh ha
it bullies them gives them pocket money
fulfills them shatters them
unbeknown though, no mouthful left.

The other noises you hear are not a turnout
but just noise itself prancing around that everyone has left
you are hearing the walking stick holding tense,
crawling as far to pretense, or
the memory stumbling on similarities
gets startled shouts thieves thieves  - what fool
covets to rob an empty hoard.

You created the complicated encounter very narrow.
For some to enter we must exit ourselves.
But even those who have broken in, stepping
overstepping over our persecution, how much
of an encounter do you think they are left to feel.
By the time they cross the intricate attraction,
and for their sight to adjust
to the low foreign light of approach
and sit down, there holding gently the hand
of completeness
the unfulfilled invades with its gang and
men get out the seats are taken.