canticle

Folder: 
dusted vault

 

"canticle"

 

 

 

In soul and cathedral, we trace
The primal beat of God’s heart—
Our hives buzz like bees around
A gallery lit by ancient art.

 

We guard our gardens as relics,
Offer compost for each sin;
Our pilgrimage is sapling-tender,
But whispers still ring deep within.

 

Stars we once named in clay
Now stream across our eyes—
Yet every light that catches night
Still answers to the same sunrise.

 

 

 

 

 

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