O, for him to take my hand, and guide me again!
My compass is gone, and I have lost my atlas:
The landscapes are featureless, and all the roads alike, 
All turns and switchbacks, and none leading out of the labyrinth. 
My Pole Star is hidden behind clouds, and my Sun behind haze, 
And I am lost -- lost -- lost --
And there is no answer when I cry out.



November 25, 2005