A bird disappears into a forest
and a song emerges, unseen.
Worms work their alchemy
in darkness beyond me.
Laborers tend shops and flowers

in the city of me.
I don’t know their names.
The city thrives.
Music rises from its streets.

I open the doors of myself
to the blackness within
and You enter to pray.

[Romans 8.26]

                           â€”July 24, 2017

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