The Pilgrimage, Book II: Part 8 / Phillip Neal Tippin

Closeness of routine and a nestled rest—
A daily commune with the vast expanse.

Expending of days for expansive rest,
The way to make the expanse a waste

Go back to the bellows
The fire and its forge
To shadow in sparks
The expanse of the stars

Poets have the clearest words
For the lotted, paired mind.

Just keep from cutting out
Or maybe only half and mourn that—
A pattern I’ve got down pat.

Lord, uphold my own faith.
   (Luke 22:32)

All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2020-2022 by Phillip Neal Tippin. All rights reserved.

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