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Poem 8: Presence

when i act, it is like moving
campsites. rolling up the tent,
beating the tarp, extinguishing one fire
to light another. the outline of my shelter lay
dry and light, defined, against deep brown dirt;
the last signs blur, soon to disappear.

in striving i take one step,
and leave another behind.

God, you are wholly good.

your shelter covers all the earth,
your steps fall in line behind you.
even the signs of your presence,
are filled with life, vibrant, radiant,
totality, inflaming
the hearts of your people.
your hearth waits warmly at the heart
of every encampment, your goodness
in glistering eyes, your vigilance: gentle night,
crisp stars crinkle to hem us in.

stand in wonder, you who are watching,
he is with us, and with all.

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