There at the end the virgin counsels us
If we ask if she chooses
This is a black this is a white
A world simple a world chosen
Not the now knowing not knowing the then
A world dreamt of worlds undreaming
Here we doubt there was no never doubting
In the stripes of these shadows
The haunting gives no unhaunted time to reflect
A time passant a world unmoved
There at the end the virgin still counsels
In kneeling admitting that we admit
That time was it's own that time truth
An innocence flavour within these shadows
In the dark being of the intended focus
Become my unique my hermit usual
Trapped in habits imagined reality this my drape
Enchanted by failure of chantless cloisters
michael oliver
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/trying-to-be-there/
