1 Feb


Sometimes to sit
and let the ground of a holy place
be the lap
upon which comfort lies
will feed the masses yearning
cry beyond mere fish
and bread.
Go child
and breathe
atop the mountain,
or down to shelled shore;
walk to the cathedral,
lie by the grave,
bow at the temple door.
Let leafless limbs filled with
the last gasp of
call to the silent mosque.
Walk a pathless garden
seasoned by the dust of humility,
save your seeds into a pocket of resolve.
Seek that
which cannot be broken
which cannot be named
A heart in All
still beating,
A Heart withal

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