they say
that there is no church in the wild
nothing to comfort the soul
except a garden of agony
which boasts the most luminous of blossoms
and hosts trees that bear oil as a balm for tears
such a place
exists here
just beyond the hearts of many
walk to it
through thorns of apathy
with love and prayers
to gird your feet against stones thrown
smell the embrace
of burning sage
and know
your soul waters the garden
and urges love
to grow to meet the stars
No comments:
Post a Comment