If I am not built up
bone upon bone
of the long reach and stride of love---
if not of that
as stars are of their night;
as speech, of birth and death; thought
a subtle paternity, of mind's eye---
if not, nothing.
A ghost costs nothing.
Casts nothing, either; no net,
no fish or failure, no tears like bells
summoning across seas
the long reach and stride of love
dawning, drowning those black waters. (Fr. Daniel J. Berrigan)
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