A Poem For Sunday

absolute

“Hunger for the Absolute” by Frank Bidart:

Earth you know is round but seems flat.

You can’t trust
your senses.

You thought you had seen every variety of creature
but not

this creature.

・

When I met him, I knew I had
weaned myself from God, not

hunger for the absolute. O unquenched
mouth, tonguing what is and must

remain inapprehensible—
saying You are not finite. You are not finite.

(From Metaphysical Dog by Frank Bidart © 2013 by Frank Bidart. Used by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC. Photo by Tristan Bowersox)