Threshold

Threshold
 By R. S. Thomas
 I emerge from the mind’s cave into the worse darkness outside, where things pass and the Lord is in none of them.

I have heard the still, small voice and it was that of the bacteria demolishing my cosmos. I have lingered too long on this threshold, but where can I go?

To look back is to lose the soul I was leading upwards towards the light. To look forward? Ah, what balance is needed at the edges of such an abyss.

 I am alone on the surface of a turning planet. What to do but, like Michelangelo’s Adam, put my hand out into unknown space, hoping for the reciprocating touch?