A Monk With No God
Prevailing heavens blest with natural forces,
begs atonement by the humble wheatfield,
quizzingly warranted by eyes gone adrift,
by the chapels’ stained glassed portrayal,
crisscross subjective and the objective,
of the innate witness human challenge,
but to say it isn’t so; summons a review,
of the individual, not by what’s thought,
intrinsic behavior evolves humankind,
furthers involvement by that abstract,
dare not His name per the first of ten,
as the unsheathed bearing its sword,
coalescent heeds the many essences,
fluidity cruises its pull o’er the masses,
as the Titanic shielded its rumored ills,
a song paralyzed hope as uneventful,
ears filled with the air of pulpits' yield,
subject thyself to that nameless one,
compassion is the herald objective,
distant from the ploys of the astray.
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