Wednesday, 27 October 2010

The Call

The Call

My mind is rolling round
What is
The inner cathedral
The inner sanctum lined with formless wealth
Moving slowly
Filling every imagined space
With featherlike smoke

I follow this entity which is not.
As all I am, is within.
All I was, inside, rolling, filling
What happens now?
I feel a craving a must
A formless chant
Haunting my yearning
My love, my life, my labour.
How is it that I must follow?
This seamless barren place
That calls me,
Cry’s at me,
Ever whining for furtherance
All will be revealed
When and to whom?
And still I follow and still
I am

By Alix Harrow

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