What I have Seen

I have seen that I must
Confess to ignorance

I do not know you, although
I have loved you twenty years

The lifting of your lashes
From your cheek

The drawing back by your hand
A lock of your hair

But fully you? I have not seen you
Except through those windows

The green shades surrounding them
The radiant darkness behind them

Press your fingers
Around my arm again

Let’s walk, far, long
Tracking through wilderness

You are world enough to explore
For another twenty hundred years

For an army of scientists
Whom I will not invite

But for me, your husband lover,
For all your friends

A clear night sky tells us
In small script your large mystery

You are a bright ground for play
Even a temple where God walks

I have glimpsed his immensities
There

Kevin Hadduck lives and works in
McPherson, Kansas.

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Sojourners Magazine June 2008
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