Today's fleeting epiphany. This is a hymn:
Who is the author thanking? It seems on one level, thanking God. An admission of failure to follow a set path, an inner anger that chases after a clearer and clearer picture. Thanking God for not being there at all. For that revelation that there is nothing, and that we are nothing and in the end we will be nothing.
Yet, that emptiness led the author to the epiphany that through this nothingness, he still remains. What now? The epiphany that we are nothing without everyone else. And thanks them, deserved or not, hollow or not, that's all he has to give is thanks. For whatever good it serves. The least that they deserve.