The Unnamed

Do not take in emptiness

All that was given in fullness

Because it could never fill you

Or make whole what was broken



Do not receive into yourself

The ideas of others

Lest you have your own ideas

For to be without your thoughts is

To go walking naked in a strange land

And strangers will clothe you

As they believe you should look…


Far better to don clothes of your weaving

And colors of your soul

Than to accept the fashions of those



Do not understand yourself

On the terms of others

For this is as to accept that you were made

Only to be seen by others

And the heart was not fit for such

It was fit only for the inner Love

Which was put there by a hand

Far gentler, far more Loving

Than any bearing a torch towards yours

Could be.


And do not read without hope

There can be nothing drunk 

Without thirst as its need or the craving

For that which it brings to you in

Tastes to be savored.


It is always thus: to read and to search

Because our souls should be garbed 

In soul-cloth

And our hearts can only cleave darkness with

The eternal flame

And our minds were meant to wear the shoes

Of the ever-traveller

So that we may stand at our own end

And be empty…


Because all that was our fullness

We gave over before coming

To be filled without space

And without conception

Without time and

Without error because all the mistakes

That were, yet to be made,

Were undone at the end.


It will be the point where nothing and beginning

Were joined in the bracelet on Life’s

Pulsing wrist.  

The place where I hold those I love in

Balance and the place where I know

That truth, and right and sadness

And joy 

Are the blocks that children play with

To make castles and to cheerfully smash them

Before clearing up to be told,

“Play-time is done.

Now it is time for rest.”


~ by Rebecca Erickson on May 17, 2015.

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