a poem about prayer by C.S. Lewis

025

Master they say that when I seem
To be in speech with you,
Since you make no replies, it’s all a dream
– One talker aping two.

The are half right, but not as they
imagine; rather, I
Seek in myself the things I meant to say,
And lo! The well’s are dry.

Then, seeing me empty, you forsake
The listener’s role, and through
My dead lips breathe and into utterance wake
The thoughts I never knew.

And thus you neither need reply
Nor can; thus while we seem
Two talking, thou art One forever, and I
No dreamer, but thy dream.

C.S. Lewis

A fine beginning

Red Cross
I have a little program called Oxidizer that makes fractals. I set the parameters, press [enter] and when I come back there are sometimes a beautiful image. Like creatures from another understanding or like graphical representation of other realities and orders of being, these fractals pulse with beauty or chaos.