Thursday, March 3, 2011

{cold horizons}-{nine}



















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{
nine}

all the noises in the world
have found there way in
become the noises in your head
and you seem all smothered
you’re surrounded you say
hemmed in by all the things
of the groping void
so that everything
just dulls into an all pervasive nothing
and there you lie
lost & stuck
in a hundred different ways
retreating inward
reaching out
for the slow-motion floating refuge
of the dark womb
of God’s love
to be unalone & silenced
dreaming the nothing dream
growing into the warm bliss
of the soft tissue embrace
entranced by nothing more
than the gentle hum
of the Holy Spirit
& the muffled world to come
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