Contemplative Poem Eleven

O true Prayer,
O true place of lowly saints,
O true incense in a holy place,
O inner hope lifted high,
We ask for our needs!

O only unfragmented reel,

You record our organic questions,
(and don’t fail to note our authenticity),
We asked for a higher power!

O central consensus of results,

O determination of our pursuit,
You are the beloved!

O Mother bird with lifted wings,

O Shield us from the snares of earth,
O Protect us from our vices and our things,
O Deliver us from desires that we birth,
O Fly in us from corruption to your resurrection,
We will not be deceived!

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