The ground upon which we walk
The ground upon which we walk
This ground
This ground
This ground
Is Holy
:- Doug.
Archive for February 1st, 2011
The songs you hear
The songs you hear
the poetry in your mind
the beauty before your eyes:
none of this originates with you,
alone
The poetry is not mine
it grows from
my roots and tentacles within
the whole
:- Doug.
The nest you’re in
The nest you’re in
is within another
There is always a larger land about
with hills and waters and paths
to explore
Open
:- Doug.
