The Door
Poetry words a moment
Contemplation unwords everything.
Contemplation seeks the light
seeping under the crack of door,
Where the door is our real
and light is the all.
That ancient door,
time beleaguered,
with no latch,
Leaks light from the other side...
the bright of grace
slipping through thin cracks
in the encasement of our now.
With the all of light our wings,
and the real of now our leg chains.
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