you are my church
you are my steeple
on this earth
I feel freedom
to get out
and meet my people
they do not
flock to my door
they can be rich
they can be poor
but I know
when they
knock
knock
on my souls door
and some may flatter
some even disappoint
but that don't matter to me
that aint even the point
as I see the joy
the wealth
of simple observation
from my dusty shelf
and in me
I found
all I needed
without a whimper
without a sound
hard lessons
are the only type
and I type
I type
turning lifes hurts
into beautiful cohesive script
refusing to stay down
refusing not to learn
grow
mend
and as I got up from the dirt
the mirrored skies
reflected my inner resolve
my inner mirth
a smile was shown to me
as I am forever with me
getting to your knees
the hardest bit
the grownd swallowing you up
everyone vanished
fearing the crash of the surf
sadness passed
and laughter came out
from my heart
jubilant dirges
made way for celebratory surges
all ive known
the places ive been
the inner spaces ive occupied
tell me
show me
I am the falcon
wings open wide
viewing the landscape
as I sneakily glide
needing nothing
happy in solitary self solidarity
can you say that?
alone I go
alone I went
hell bent
on
practical magic
not dwelling
on others perceptions
of the tragic
beauty is here
out there
and without thought
without care
I reach
self teach
me and he
and Gemini self
I think it makes three
the church is in me
the grey clouds don't offend me
for the suns rays
vaporise
it all off
the flow
one foot in hard
one foot in joy
an arm around my gift
the other hand forever reaching
sucking the marrow
jumping lines in the sand
feet upon this joyous planet
this sacred land
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