In Meditation

The extremities pass & we coax the truth
into repeating the lesson left on a vacant shore.

Outside has become the new inside,
as the handhelds take the mind away.

What has me here so still,
the one word to hold so long?

Not on a road of sentences
will it will me a greater silence.

The nest is laid to final rest.
All the above was left at the rest stop.

It is a script of absences.
There is a picture in the word you hold dear.

Keep it safe.

Posts by (92).

William Cowan

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