Kenosis

KENOSIS

The weary theologian, frantic for a stitch

of something definite with which to patch

his fraying sense of sanity, attempts to

catch an elusive fact he hopes sufficient

to illuminate the inky infinite. But just 

to light a single room, much less the house,

requires quite a mess of these evasive 

lightning bugs, and catching them in mason 

jars is proving far more problematic than 

initially perceived. Scattered in the evening

like a sneeze they flicker out of reach,

till out of breath he finds himself in much

the place he was before—kneeling at the

altar of his pillowcase, (and yes, he's in the

dark.)