truth filled fragility

It might be lonelier
Without the Loneliness -
I’m so accustomed to my Fate -
Perhaps the Other - Peace -

Would interrupt the Dark -
And crowd the little Room -
Too scant - by Cubits - to contain
The Sacrament - of Him -

I am not used to Hope -
It might intrude upon -
Its sweet parade - blaspheme the place -
Ordained to Suffering -

It might be easier
To fail - with Land in Sight -
Than gain - My Blue Peninsula -
To perish - of Delight -

— emily dickinson

Though our feelings come and go,
His love for us does not.
It is not wearied by our sins,
or our indifference;
and, therefore,
it is quite relentless in its determination
that we shall be cured of those sins,
at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him.
C.S.Lewis