Caricamento in corso...
J. Martin Dean

ORDINATION

Some very old poem I dug up. Perhaps it is fifteen, even twenty years old. It reminds me of the Magic Woods behind Alex's house where the Zen monk sat happily woven from a tapestry of frozen branches and shone upon by a one Full Moon.

August 16th, 2024

The choir of the saints is heartless.
They’ve parried happiness a lifetime,
  seeking the old earth,
  the marsh of the meek—
  where earnest suffering is woven with revelation
        and chaste with bottomless bliss.
Altre opere di J. Martin Dean...



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