Out Here

I swapped my nets for questions
And traded my home for walking boots.
And now I'm out here.
Some trackless somewhere.
I think you called me, God.
But was I faithful or a fool
to come out here to find you, to follow you?
Won't you calm this moment with an answer?

I came out here too.
I traded my omniscience for an unanswered "Why?",
and universe-creating power for an infant's chubby hands.
I turned my back on golden paradise and huddled in a draughty shed,
and left unbroken fellowship for deep betrayal by a friend.
I drew the blinds on unimaginable radiance
and sank in utter blackness that I had not known …

I came out here too,
But you have no language to apprehend
The wonders I traded for your brittle frame.
You have no intellect to comprehend what I forsook,
What all-surpassingness I laid aside,
What gnawing questions swarmed around my mind,
When I came out here
To find you.