Little I Know

"Little I Know"

(“Just then the men were allowed to recognize him. But when they saw who he was, he disappeared.” Luke 24:31)

How little I know of the smallness,
how narrow my view of the focus
which circles, a bright patch on creation’s dark fabric,
how little I know, and how can I speak
of larger denouements toward at corners of the map
not yet surveyed.

I am like a child unweaned, with a taste for only what I know.
I am a lapchild and know Abba’s face well when held close enough
to see His features, smile and scarred brow; callous and wounded hands.
Most times I know Him well and His voice makes me grin, makes me weep,
makes me remember the sweet in the middle of creation’s sometime
bitter brew.

How little I know of Him complete,
how far His silhouette of profile in the mists,
how little I know of His silence,
how quietly He invites while carnival barkers and
whirligigs drown my hearing.

I am a child who hears with ears accustomed to
timbre and tones named well by others who have offered their opinions.

Let me low and high discover the unwritten that words
are not hidden, that come unbidden before I’ve become
well-tempered tuned.