purpose

flights of fancy and a
chance to write:  of
worlds and magic and
plight of kindgoms,
power and miles

not as easy as it sounds:
people, places, plots -
is this the yeast
in this place, I am
dough prepared -
is this the yeast to
help me rise
before I bake and break?

hard thing to surmise
purpose when our
God is silent
and rarely speaks
except by shafts of
brilliant light, spirit-
shadows body echoes
and the flash of knowledge
beamed from the bone
like lightning
through your skull

One Year Round The Sun
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