And now, here is Ann Chapin’s winning poem in full:
Barth & Rumi Advise the Theologian
“We and our existences are really non-existence;
thou art the absolute Being which manifests the perishable.”
You can’t find Him in there, go ahead, look hard,
with all the commentaries you may buy - or write yourself.
His domain we cannot discover,
and this shore has no port.
Does one arrive only by shipwreck?
“Come and dwell with me and be my Beloved,” is His call.
His love gives birth to hurricanes,
and gives more than all things back in Him alone.
(You have caused this shipwreck.
My secret stores of comfort,
hidden rafts of self-reliance,
hidden even from myself,
you have utterly destroyed, dashed against
the rocky shore of your desire for me.)
“But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God
What thing could remain hidden under such a Light?”