“Thin places are...where the veil
momentarily lifts, and we behold God.”
Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity
In the slim space between the body
of the i and its dot, between any
letter and a comma, between the two
ts in little, between the e and a in beauty
itself, is almost God, almost Word—not
quite, but some place sheer enough
to spell us for a while until the merest
places close down on sin to suggest
a single sentence, simple prose,
spare and lucid as “Let there be light.”