After Isaiah 2:1-5, 4:2
I’m not one
given to visions,
comets, falling
stars, earthquakes,
or nirvana, but
I did see
a mountain,
once, a mountain
rising among its
fellows, thrusting
its way upward
and elbowing others
aside until it
was the tallest,
the biggest, the
most expansive. Sitting
atop was a
temple, with rivers
of people
streaming into it. That
was the sum
total of my vision,
nothing else until
I joined
one of the
streams and sang with them:
Empty our hands
fill our hearts
touch our souls
shape our minds
fill our hands
with work
Photograph by Kevin Phillips via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
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