The Prophet took people of abject poverty
and strewed rubies at their feet

There was no glass in the Prophet’s windows
for any brick to break

In each heart he ties a knot of gold
whose two ends make eternity’s

radiant reclining figure eight
gazed upon by God

We can stand in the door he made in
our being or stride through it into God’s

Presence

The Prophet never rode out on his she camel
but that they longed for his return
____________________

11/24/2007 (from The Fire Eater’s Lunchbreak, soon to appear)
leon4

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