Thomas H. Bast

When all is well it’s easy to confessYour goodness Lord, but when you disappearCapriciously ignoring our distressYou leave behind despair and numbing fear.Where now the gracious Giver of all good gifts?Why now the bleak, soul-searing ache of Absence?The mind has cliffs of fall with deeps and . . . . Continue Reading »

Despite the doubt and forked ambivalence,Approach, avoid, ignore, yet hope to shareIn some impossible benevolence,To care and not to care my muted prayer;Despite the years of practiced lassitude,And fearful of the all-consuming dare,Adrift, unmoored, bereft of gratitude,Consumed, perplexed, and . . . . Continue Reading »