My cup is brimmed with uncertainty
And its vapors
Cloud the clarity of my mind.
I beg for truth and solidarity,
Then, pressing the cup to my lips
Its bitterness causes me to reel
And I know that I do not know.
Why is the beauty of the world
Wasted on unseeing eyes
And steps mount up to carry
Me to useless places?
Why do the true chimes of my heart
Fail to reach the slightly hearing ears,
When all discordant notes ring true
When every ear becomes all-hearing?
Why does God not say thus and so
Here erase my doubts and wonder
And give each step of foot and mind
A direction without question?
Is it because my mind has built a wall
Whose stone is want
And whose wet mortar is the prejudice of my will,
Whose packed clay is made
By taking steps upon the path I want to go?
It must be this.
For look at all the others
Who found their way
And know no darkness nor do battle with their mind.