The Sense of the Ineffable

I was asleep, but my heart awake: It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; For my head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.


I have put off my garment; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
                                           --Song of Songs 5:2,3




When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.
                                               --Pink Floyd