Monday, March 20, 2017

Distant Valentine

A good meditation tries
To mirror the original
As if it were the original
And the other was the image
It takes several brush-strokes
Not to be confused as a copy
Of the living god in his dominion
Painted on this crumbling wall
Yet here he is resplendent
Preserved in fragmentary blue
And white as if condensing
Out of the clouds as promised
But for now often alone
He’s living in a tiny chapel
In a hidden valley far away
Still meditating night and day
Still listening for the phone

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