A cold, foggy morning. I can barely see the road as I drive in the early darkness.
There is a bright light of civilization ahead. As I enter the place, three or four weary, working-class faces look my way. I feel odd and out of place. There are many "regulars" who come here. I'm not "regular" at all.
Confusion and self-doubt. My thought processes always end in circumlocution. Before 6:00 a.m., no one should be thinking about religion. I have just heard the greatest speech about God, but I can't believe it. I want to, or rather, I think I want to, but I really can't. What he says seems so damned reasonable- well, some of it - I just can't stand to see him hurting because I've rejected his "truth".
As it grows lighter, more sagging-eyed people enter. My mind is as fogged as the outdoors. I can't see an end to my doubts. I wonder if it matters at all. I close my eyes for thirty seconds, and the misty sky has already turned a paler shade of blue. Perhaps the sun will actually rise, today. Perhaps there is a light to turn to...
(Nov. '84)
No comments:
Post a Comment