Poetry, Spiritual

Within/Without

May 28, 2011

By faith I contain mountains
swallowing myself into something greater
than myself. I become a mystery, at once
both dead and alive and
disappearing into the sun.

I am not I, but another
movement like the wind or a child
near its mother, at peace because it is.


I will because I am, not in struggle
to become the perfect selfless within
and without.

I am contained by mountains
and thrown into the sea
where I drown, seed like, always growing simply
because I am not, but by faith I am he.

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