The old man’s shell cracks
thick as a tombstone,
hard as walnut,
hungry for the green wave.

With tears of desire
his white arms reach,
uncoiling, irresistible,
speaking in tongues,
searching for God.

 

 

9 Responses

  1. You capture what Joseph Campbell pointed to as the way out of the Wasteland: “You must find the source that makes things green.” And, for me that divinity resides within nature.

  2. Thank you, Don. For those for whom the search is over–having simply let go of their notions of “God”–they are blessed indeed.

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