If you came at night like a broken king…
what you thought you came for
Is only a shell, a husk of meaning
From which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled
If at all.
(T.S. Eliot, “Little Gidding”)
A broken king takes silent refuge
In this house of softly waiting,
Binding truths into the hope
Of all our common prayers.
Though now there still is
Yet no answer,