No Comfort in Father Horo
Father Horo, my constant fellow, I will
release my burden, for the truth I am seeing.
You move too fast and yet seem to stand still,
A time for tears, my freeing, yet my concern being—
droplets of tears, a river from within,
In this weeping, I rock in my boat, I sway,
To be with, yet to be without and myself,
Yearning for love, yet needing my own way.
For what I want, I cannot help. Can you?
I’ll cherish the moments, embrace the tears,
Love speaks of pleasure and of pain too—
I accept the wanting. I’ll face my fears—
the deprivation. Absent of my heart’s desire—
Yearning and seeking, a constant pull.
It’s a longing that is desperate and dire.
Asking, the question that lingers in the lull—
Why, what I want—I cannot control?
Answers will not come in time to console.

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