G
is for God, as though the unnameable could be named. Whole libraries could be
constructed to get a go, a guess, at an answer. Letters stand in for what is
really meant. Deep into the night and in the morning reverent Yes and dogmatic
No go round and round, hang out their findings on a crossbar. The God seminar,
same, never ends – except in God. Whereas H is for Hymn. This singing of somewhere
someone something understood has left aside all arduous argument, rises up
above stonework particulars February, certain of its chosen voice, amazed at
its given lines.
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