cronechronicler

Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte

Discomforting Sanctuary

Like a cathedral’s soaring vault
Outside my window tree branches arch
Forming my sanctuary roof
Green as summer.

Here inside my writing room
Quiet and cool invites my muse
Leaving world and strife behind
Perhaps I can escape.

But not today.
I cannot rest in solitude
When cries of anger, pain andĀ fear
Pierce my self-centered peace.

I have no healing words to write
Only love wrung out of me
To fling into communal scream
What will become of us?

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