Nativity

In the dark, a child might ask, “What is the world?”
just to hear his sister
promise, “An unfinished wing of heaven”,
just to hear his brother say,
“A house inside a house”,
but most of all to hear his mother answer,
“One more song, then you go to sleep.”

How could anyone in that bed guess
the question finds its beginning
in the answer long growing
inside the one who asked, that restless boy,
the night’s darling?

Later, a man lying awake,
he might ask it again,
just to hear the silence
charge him, “This night
arching over your sleepless wondering,

This night, the near ground
every reaching-out-to overreaches”,

just to remind himself
out of what little earth and duration,
out of what immense good-bye,
each must make a safe place of the heart,
before so strange and wild a guest
as God approaches.

–Li-Young Lee (from Book of My Nights)

The strange and wild guest, the incomprehensible darkness. I lie in that darkness on windy nights listening to the trees roar, and feel myself dissolving into the near ground.