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November 15-18, 2021


My Hope


my mind inhabits insecurity

is forever uncertain if what it knows

is best known or not known

mist swirls, obscures reality

do I really know this


do I really know that


do I know the other thing

a thing not thing at all

I dont know


I cant know


I never know

its all so confusing

the only evaluator I own

is not at all reliable

it randomly lies at me

tells me what is, isnt

how would I know?

tells me what isnt, is

how would I not know?

uncertainty precedes my every step

my sense of the real is constantly in doubt

I cannot know where fog and fact diverge


but of this I am certain

I am no determiner of the real

am but an inhabitant of it

my certainty cannot cause it

my uncertainty cannot change it

it is held by a power so far beyond me

a power so incredibly grand

so as to beggar my imagination

and knowing the certain truth

of He who holds both reality

and my fragile wandring mind

I know that I am safe


and of this I am even more sure

will come a grand and glorious day

when I will no longer be confused

I will both see and know the real

I will be safe

from every fear and doubt

I will no longer peer through shadows

I will be whole

I will see and I will fully know

He Who held and holds me fast


My Hope

A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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