Friday, September 29, 2017

The outsider


After Isaiah 56:6-8

I sit outside the circle,
the wall, no way
to make my way
inside, a cold place,
empty and stark,
cold.

And yet my service,
my heart, are sought, a call
insistent and growing louder,
until even I understand
and I walk to the holy hill,
the temple doors open, and
my offerings, my self, are
accepted. The voices rise
in this house of exile,
this house of nations.


Photograph by Priscilla Du Preez via Unsplash. Used with permission.

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