LXXXII
I will utter your name, sitting alone among the shadows of my silent thoughts.
I will utter it without words, I will utter it without purpose.
For I am like a child that calls its mother an hundred times, glad that it can say “Mother.”
About This Book
A sequence of short lyric poems meditates on devotion, longing, and the soul's passage from youthful abundance to mature offering. Using natural and seasonal imagery—fruit, flowers, river, wind—the poems describe inner movement toward a beloved or master, the shedding of social honors and possessions, and the readiness to set forth on a spiritual journey. Stylistically spare and intimate, the verses alternate tender longing, parablelike episodes, and exhortations to openness, emphasizing surrender, inward illumination, and the simple act of giving.