One World At A Time. . .

The grounds are silent.
I am here in the catacombs
and yearning for words
to frame my time.
I enter the gleanings of my heart.

Hear O’Lord, my bayings
as the old wolf in the field,
trying to awaken the Mind;
as the old One mourned,
that has been asleep.

Hear what my heart
in the stillness of this hour,
yodels for a thing not defined.

My utterings go out
and circle worlds to find
their match in other throats
echoing mine.

We are so much alike and yet
so minutely different.

As I enter and as I exit,
guide me to what is mine and to no other.
This world where I am, can I accommodate.

One world at a time, dear friend, one world.  Amen and amen.