In this desert of language
we find ourselves in,
with the sign-post with the word ‘God’
worn away
and the distance… ?
Pity the simpleton
with his mouth open crying:
How far is it to God?
And the wiseacre says: Where you were,
friend.
You know the smile
glossy
as the machine that thinks it has outpaced
belief?
I am one of those
who sees from the arms opened
to embrace the future
the shadow of the Cross fall
on the smoothest of surfaces
causing me to stumble.
by R. S. Thomas
from Between Here and Now (1981)
Rambling At The Bridge Head 