There is always
that edge of doubt.
Trust it.
That's where
the new things come from. If
you can't live with it,
get out because,
when it's gone
you're on automatic,
repeating something
you've learned.
Let your prayer be:
save me from that tempting
certainty that
leads me back
from the edge,
that dark edge where
the first light breaks.
"The Edge of Doubt" by Albert Huffstickler. Text as published in Journal for Anthroposophy (Fall, 1994).Curator's note: This is an update to today's post, which presented the poem with very different line breaks and capitalization. I had been unable to locate a source for that earlier version. My thanks to subscriber Julie Roehm for providing a source citation so I could track down this text.
Art credit: Untitled image by unknown photographer.
Joe Blanda of Austin, TX, writes me that he also found this poem in a chapbook of Huff's called "The Certitude of Laundromats" (1995) and it looked like this:
ReplyDeleteThere is always
that edge of doubt.
Trust it.
That's where
the new things come from. If
you can't live with it,
get out because,
when it's gone
you're on automatic,
repeating something
you've learned.
Let your prayer be:
save me from that tempting
certainty
that leads
me back
from the
edge
that dark edge
where the first
light breaks.
Thanks, Joe!