401
the singing
the
singing from the church is nothing
wakes
no god
the
day pretends
beginning
with light
what
will we make?
voices
shape
a
bird, a tree
despite
all efforts
everything's
equal
lay
me down by the running stream
in
the picnic pasture
mist
me in
gather
the olives
fry
them green
make
sure there's salt
bring
me something baked
will
you
spread
a blanket for the feast
that's there
if you believe
Practical mysticism for the non believer. Love it.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful moment when all that is sufficient...
ReplyDelete