Epilogue by Christian Wiman

The more I think the more I feel

reality without reverence is not real.

The more I feel the more I think

that God himself has brought me to this brink

wherein to have more faith means having less.

And love’s the sacred name for loneliness.

I speak a word I have not spoken

and by that word am broken open,

a cry entirely other entirely mine.

In league with the stones of the field

I am by being healed.