SANCTUARY When all labor fails and every path of desire is a hapless dead end, there eternally prevails that ever primal keep, the forest, our enemy and friend into whose rocky arboreal, earthy transforming bacterial chemistries we ease our weariness of familial greaving and hospice ministries by finally relieving that unbearable weight, our breath, and sleep, timeless and dreamless, in death at last, this ancient wilderness, silent and vast, without beginning or end. |
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